


Hot Pot of Coffee

by lirael



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirael/pseuds/lirael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake comes to collect payment from Sherry after the events of Resident Evil 6, and they end up resolving some unfinished business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, super girl…I'm coming to get my money."

His voice was casual, matter-of-fact. He'd sounded like that from the start, hadn't he? "You comin'?" he'd said, without a word about his teammates turning into J'avo. God, he could be infuriating. But she had never known anything like the warmth of sudden humor in his eyes, and his laugh, as their hearts raced in breathless moments of triumph. The strength in his arms, the solid feeling of his body when he wrapped her in a protective embrace—he'd quite literally shielded her from bullets. When they'd parted in China, he had suddenly seized her and held her tightly against his chest.

Sherry pulled the phone away from her ear, looked at it. She'd listened to the message more than ten times. It wasn't going to change, and she was annoyed at her own idiotic reaction. It thrilled her to hear his voice again, and she couldn't focus on much else. God damn him, what did he _mean_? Why couldn't he behave like a normal person for just once?

Jake Muller had left a voicemail on her phone at 3:14 AM, while she was sleeping. She'd risen at 6:00, saw the notification on her phone on her way to work at 7:45, and spent the rest of the day preoccupied with the drawl of his voice, the intensity of his gaze, the skin at the base of his throat, glistening with sweat—and his rude, mercenary mouth. He was only 21 years old now! Sherry sighed. She knew Jake so intimately in a way—they'd saved each other's lives—but she felt she barely understood him at all.

She had been busy over the last eight months, working long hours in the aftermath of the attacks in Tall Oaks and Lanshiang. She had filed various reports, studied the new research as if her life depended on it (it most likely would, at some point), continued with rigorous weapons training and conditioning courses. She worked so hard and kept herself so busy she went to bed each night exhausted. It helped her sleep in the aftermath of her boss and guardian Derek Simmons' betrayal. Sherry was resilient. She had lived through the unthinkable before. She was a survivor, and she knew how to fend off despair and keep moving. That didn't mean it was easy, though. The upset in the wake of the President's death and Simmons' betrayal could have provided an opportunity for her to leave the Division of Security Operations and try to live a more normal life—maybe. But the thought held little appeal for her. She had lived through the unthinkable, and she would spend her life fighting those who would unleash it on other innocents. She couldn't do anything else. And Jake… By the end of their time battling Neo Umbrella together, he had seemed to share that conviction.

She tried not to think of Jake too often. She was irritated by him when they met, her natural exasperation at his brash manner heightened by the way his steady gaze made her feel unsettled, the way his body felt hot against hers when they touched. She came to know a more sincere, motivated man underneath the fast shooting and flippant jokes, however, and most of the time, she liked him. A lot. It was silly to spend much time thinking about him, but even at work—perhaps especially at work, after he'd been her partner in combat against the J'avo—she found it hard to put him out of her mind. She found herself wishing she could tell Jake about the results of new research on the C-virus, and worrying about his safety, wherever he was, even though he was the best fighter she'd ever met.

Sherry had been out of government custody for three years before being sent to escort Jake safely out of Edonia. She hadn't spent all of that time living like a nun. She went on dates. She'd slept with some of them. Given the demise of her own childhood, she'd never thought it was realistic to hope for a white picket fence in her future. She would have preferred to fall head over heels for someone she could build a shared life with, but that had never been possible. In a world where Raccoon City hadn't happened, maybe she would have. That wasn't her reality, however, and she'd made the best of things. She liked each of the men she'd been with, she'd enjoyed their company, but the nights she'd spent with them were like brief vacations from her own life. She had fun, but she could never live there. Jake had come roaring into her real world. He was more alive than any man she'd ever met, more invested in her own life's calling—and maybe even more unsuitable. Still, it was sometimes hard not to daydream, to lose herself in brief flashes of memory.

He had surprised her when they'd said goodbye in China. In the aftermath of everything they'd been through, she was overwhelmed by the unlikely fact of their survival. Only exhaustion kept her exultant giddiness in check as Jake strode toward her, eyes on the floor at her feet. She felt an urge to reach up and run her hand over the stubble of hair on his shaved head. She grinned, smiling up into his eyes as he raised his gaze to meet hers. A crooked smirk tugged at the left side of his mouth, then spread into the broadest grin she'd ever seen on his face. They smiled at each other in silence: alive, victorious, partners. After a moment, Jake's grin softened into something gentler. "Hey," he ordered, nudging her in the shoulder, "you take care of yourself. I know you can heal and all, but without me around…" he shrugged his shoulders doubtfully.

Sherry smiled wryly. She wasn't going to let him deflect her gratitude with jokes. "Thank you," she said sincerely, catching his eye. "I really mean it, Jake." She reached out and touched his arm with her right hand. "Without you, we couldn't have stopped the outbreak. Not just your blood, but everything you–"

"Don't, _don't_." He held his hand up warningly, letting her hand fall from his arm. "Stop right there."

"Jake," she insisted, "I–"

But she was surprised into silence when his hands went around her waist. He wrapped her in his arms, crushing her against his chest. She threw her arms around his shoulders in surprised response, pulling herself tightly to his neck. He was so hard, and warm, and she could feel his heartbeat against her breasts. He rubbed his cheek once against the top of her head. She felt him inhale deeply, his face buried in her hair. Then he pulled away, leaving her weak-kneed. "Go save the world," he said softly. Eyes on her mouth, he ran his thumb gently over her cheekbone. With one last flash of serious blue eyes, he turned on his heel and sauntered away. She heard him whistling.

Other than a one-line text message she'd received from him on that very flight, that whistle was the last thing she'd heard from Jake Muller at all. And that text—he'd lowered his asking price to $50. Was he serious? Was it a joke, was he flirting— _stop_ , Sherry told herself. He might show up demanding that she honor her former boss's commitment to pay $50 million. She hadn't heard a word from Jake in over eight months, and this latest voicemail wasn't exactly specific. It could still be another eight months before she saw him, anyway. She had tried calling him back, but the line rang unavailable.

Out of the office now, she walked along the sidewalk, deep in thought. As she passed the building's corner, someone grabbed hold of her elbow. She almost jumped out of her skin, whirling around to face her pursuer. Before her mind finished reviewing her options for a makeshift weapon, he stepped out of the building's shadow. Heart pounding with sudden adrenaline, she looked up to see pale blue eyes, a long vertical scar, a cocky, crooked smirk.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"Jake!" She stared in shock.

His eyes traveled from her face down to her feet, then slowly back up until he met her gaze again. He glanced away quickly. "Damn, super girl," he muttered appreciatively, "you look…clean."

"You too," she responded, taking a step back to see him better. "I…" She shook her head, suddenly unsure of what to say. She smiled instead. "It's really good to see you."

"Thanks," he replied, pleased. His gaze dropped to her body, snapped back up to her face. "We've got some unfinished business to take care of."

Sherry's face went hot; her conservative work clothes suddenly felt too sheer. She took a deep breath, hoping he didn't notice her blush.

"You still owe me my fee for that blood donation in China."

Did he mean $50? $50 million? She opened her mouth to speak. "Yes, I–"

"Yeah," he waved over her attempt to speak. "I'm here to collect. Buy me a drink?"

"What?" she blurted.

"You know, a beer, or a shot—wait, have you ever been to a bar? I know you grew up in some weird circumstances–"

"Yes, I'm aware of the existence of alcoholic beverages, Jake," she interjected.

"Good, let's go!" He took a step up the street, turned back when she didn't follow. "You owe me money. Usually I only accept cash, but for you…I'm giving you a chance to pay some of it down by buying me a drink."

She squinted at him skeptically. "Really? What if I were to pay you off in cash right now?"

"What," he said, wounded, "you don't want to go get a drink with me?"

Sherry tilted her head, considering, then smiled at him conspiratorially. "Fine. Let's go."

 

********

 

They walked down the street in silence, Jake moving quickly as ever. He led her to a bar five blocks away, and held the door open for her when they arrived. Once inside, he slid into a booth and stretched his arms out along the back. As usual, he sprawled over more space than your average person. His posture was lazy, but his measuring gaze took in the entire room. Sherry knew he could vault up in an instant if danger threatened. It was thrilling to be near him again, and a little nerve-wracking. She pressed her lips together and looked down shyly.

"Two vodkas," Jake said brusquely as a server arrived to take their order.

"No, not for me," she interrupted. "I'll be fine with water."

"Are you serious?" Jake said. "The two of us are still alive, and you're going to celebrate with water?"

She was unmoved. "We've still been alive for eight months now. Isn't that old news by this point?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm still pretty fucking happy about it, and we never got a chance to celebrate yet. Get a real drink."

She looked at him for a long moment, considering. "Champagne," she amended, smiling apologetically at the server.

"May I see your I.D., ma'am?" The server hadn't bothered to ask Jake, who chuckled as Sherry dug around in her purse. She glared at him.

" _You're_ the one who's barely old enough to drink in this country," she snapped as the server walked away.

"Yeah, but you're the one who looks nineteen. How old are you anyway, super girl?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Whooooa, ancient!" She shot him a withering look and changed the subject.

"What have you been doing for the last eight months?"

"Making money." He was nonchalant. "Realized I was good at killing B.O.W.s, and I like doing it. What do you do when you're not saving the world?"

"Well, less of the B.O.W. killing and more back-end antibioterrorism stuff," she answered. "You know, compiling reports on research, meetings with government officials, trying to stay on top of any potential threats."

"So you haven't been running around fighting J'avo with other guys?" He shot her an interrogating glance that belied his casual tone.

"What? No! My mission to escort you safely out of the conflict in Edonia was the only—wait." She stared at him incredulously. "Why are you even asking—Jake Muller, are you _jealous_?"

"Me? Nah," he shrugged. "As long as you're not fighting freakshow monsters with some guy who's not me, anyway," he added quietly. Sherry continued to stare as their drinks arrived. "To you and me," Jake said, brandishing his vodka, "still alive." They clinked their glasses together and drank. Sherry sipped her champagne delicately; Jake threw his entire vodka back in one swallow. "Another?" he asked her.

"You'll have to give me a minute," she said drily, indicating her full glass. She set her glass down and gazed at him searchingly, examining the lines of his face. "Jake," she said quietly, "what are you really doing here?"

He scowled and ran a hand over the stubble on his scalp. "I collect payment for every contract I complete. Every contract," he said.

"I believe that," she replied. "But, well…do you commonly accept payment in vodka?"

"Heh, no." He rubbed his mouth. "I…keep thinking about you," he admitted, averting his eyes. "I've tried to figure out what it is. I mean, I don't meet a lot of cute girls on the job—I'd rather follow you up a ladder than some merc any time—but it's more than that. I keep wishing you were there, or I want to tell you things. It's fuckin' unhealthy," he said, crossing his arms.

"You mean you missed me?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"What? Yeah, I guess. I don't know." He held up his hands. "Here I am."

"I'm glad." Her voice was soft. "I think about you, too."

"Really?" He leaned forward, smirking. "What kind of thoughts?"

"Jake!" she exclaimed. "God, you are so _irritating_ , and stubborn, and just a pain in the ass, but… I can count on you." She took a breath, looked across the table into his eyes. "You never abandoned me, even when Simmons betrayed us. You're a smartass, but you believed in me. You never doubted my capabilities. And you always tried to protect me, even though you were the one Neo Umbrella was hunting. You saved my life." His eyes were penetrating, but she couldn't read his expression. She took a deep breath. "I care about you."

He looked at her for a long moment, opened his mouth to speak—and then his knee touched hers under the table and they both jumped. "Yeah, you too," he said gruffly.

Sherry touched his hand gently, then swallowed half of the remaining champagne. A wicked urge stole over her. She smiled up at him sweetly and shifted in her seat, deliberately brushing her knee against his. He tensed slightly, but left his leg where it was. The sudden predatory light in his eyes made her squirm again. He smiled slowly.

"Let's get another round."

 

********

 

After two more drinks, Jake felt pretty good but wasn't outwardly affected. It was clear to him that Sherry didn't drink often. She was high on a bubbly wave of euphoria. He liked her this way—playful, a little silly. He couldn't think if he had ever heard her laugh in Edonia or China. He liked seeing her cap J'avo with a magnum, but he liked her laugh, too. Those blue eyes of hers…her poker face was nonexistent. He could tell she really had been happy to see him when he first spoke to her on the street, miracle of miracles. He watched her mouth in fascination as she talked happily about something to do with gene samples taken from J'avo. Suddenly, she suddenly broke off.

"Shit," she enunciated carefully, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "I have to work tomorrow."

"So?"

"I'm _drunk_ ," she whispered, eyes round.

Jake snorted. "So? Hey, do you even get hangovers, with that healing thing?"

Sherry pulled her face into a cartoonish chastising expression. "No. I don't know. Let's get out of here."

Jake laughed. "Damn, you are a lightweight, blondie."

He held the door courteously for her when they left, but continued the teasing as they walked out into the night. "So," he smirked down at her, "That's a third of your debt covered."

"Oh really? The bill was–"

"Your drinks don't count, super girl. Those were on you."

"What a gentleman you are," she said flatly, but her eyes sparkled.

They walked in good-humored silence for several blocks, punctuated by Jake's commentary on the places and people they passed. When they reached a stopped crosswalk, Jake dodged quickly across the road at the first break in traffic. He waited on the opposite curb, face impassive, as she waited for the light to change and then crossed the road. He was looking at her seriously when she reached him. "Hey," he said slowly, "I have missed you." They stood in silence for a beat, then Sherry smiled and reached for his hand. He smiled back, lips pressed tightly together. Then he took her hand more firmly in his own and turned to continue walking up the street. "Hey," he added, looking down at her shoes, "how do you walk in those fucking things?"

His hand was warm around hers. She could feel callouses on his finger tips. The last blocks passed swiftly, and before she was ready they reached her apartment. Jake didn't seem surprised in the slightest; it appeared he already knew where she lived. She wondered just what kind of connections he had made in the last eight months, but this didn't really seem the best time to ask. He gestured at the doorway. "So, uh, this is it?"

"Yeah," she replied, looking down. She glanced back up to see him gazing at her steadily. She looked back, rubbed her lips together nervously as he regarded her.

"I'd like to see you again," he said finally.

"I'd like that, too." She smiled. "Are you staying around here, or…"

Jake stepped close to her, looking down into her eyes. He touched her face, tipped her chin up with his hand. Then he leaned down and kissed her. His lips were soft against her own, his mouth gentle. She could feel the strength in his hand against her jaw. He brushed his thumb along her cheekbone as the kiss lengthened, bending his knees to stoop and capture her mouth more thoroughly. She placed her hand on his chest to steady herself and felt a thrill run through her at the feel of his chest through the texture of the thermal shirt he wore under his jacket. She opened her mouth slightly, let him slip his tongue inside to taste her. Long minutes passed as he kissed her, exploring the shape of her mouth and igniting a slow fire within her. She responded to his rhythm, letting him lead the movement of her mouth. His bottom lip was slightly larger than his top lip, his skin soft but delightfully solid between her own lips. The feel of his kiss on her own bottom lip was demanding, electric. He smelled of leather, and tasted of vodka and sex. He was warm, so wonderfully alive; his mouth was hot on her own. Sherry found herself pressing forward eagerly, kissing him more urgently. She spread the fingers of her hand on his chest, ran her other hand up the muscles of his side. He gripped her chin more firmly, and kissed her hard. Then he pulled away.

Sherry looked up at him with wide eyes, thoughtful. Her hand still rested on his chest. "Come inside," she said.

He took a deep breath. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

She blinked. "Why?"

He stepped back, passed a hand over his eyes. "You're different…I don't want to screw things up with you."

"How do you think you'll screw things up? I asked you to come inside." He looked away. "It's just, _'I'd like to see you again_? _'_ What does that even _mean_? I haven't heard from you in eight months, since China. When you leave tonight, it might be eight more months before you turn back up! Just…come up."

He searched her face. "Are you sure?" She nodded. "I don't want you to think I don't respect you, or–"

"I know you respect me. I could tell when you stopped being _quite_ such a wise-ass as usual. Besides," she added, turning to shoot a look over her shoulder, "what makes you think you're my type?"

It was always something with women. He shook his head and watched her hips sway atop the torturous looking excuses for shoes she had strapped to her feet as she climbed the stairs to the door. Damn, he didn't have a prayer.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherry's apartment seemed smaller than usual with Jake inside it. Restless, he stalked around the room, examining its contents. Sherry rolled her eyes. Of course he wouldn't think to _ask_ before rifling through her things. He picked up a particular framed picture, squinted at it. "This Claire with you?"

"Yes," she replied. Sherry pulled off one of her shoes. "That was taken three years ago."

"You guys are pretty close, huh?"

"Yeah, we are. She's always been there for me. I wouldn't be the same person...actually, I wouldn't be alive without her."

"Guess I should thank her," he said, setting the picture back down. He turned and looked around the room with measured eyes.

"I should thank you, too," Sherry said softly. "You saved my life more times than I can count. Without you, I wouldn't have escaped from that hell of a laboratory in China."

Jake let out a bark of laughter. "Look, _you_ saved _me_ , super girl, let's get that straight. If you hadn't come looking for me, I never would have known why that monster was after me in the first place. And you could have bailed on me any time. Me helping you was definitely to my own benefit."

Sherry smiled, her head tilted to one side. "Thanks anyway."

He smiled tersely, then cast another look around the room. "You do pretty well for yourself. The saving the world business must pay all right."

"I probably don't earn as much as the average soldier-for-hire, but it's not bad," she quipped. He looked at her sharply. 

"You'd be shocked. You really would," he said, "but it's a little dull after the adrenaline rush of saving the world."

"Ah. You're missing that too, are you?" She waited, then, taking his silence as affirmation: "Look, Jake, I like you. And I'm pretty sure you feel the same way about me." She was blushing now, all earnest blue eyes. "But I understand that we're not going to date like regular people. Even after what happened with Simmons— _especially_ after what happened with Simmons, my whole life is about working to help the world recover from the horrors he unleashed, and preventing anything like that from happening in the future. It's the most important thing there is, but it makes for an odd lifestyle. And you…you're a mercenary, and I don't see you settling down to a quiet retirement any time soon, especially not while there are still B.O.W.s left in the world." 

He regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Wait just a fucking second. You invited me up here, just to tell me we're never going to be together?" He laughed bitterly. "I knew I shouldn't have come here."

"No, that's not what I meant," she said, voice rising. "I like you, and I—I'm attracted to you. I trust you with my life. But we're so different, and our lives are just too weird for a relationship. It would never work. But–"

"But what, Sherry?" He was pacing now. "I'm not good enough for you? Why'd you–"

" _No_ , I think you're amazing, I just wanted you to know that I'm not expecting–"

His face shifted from anger to bemusement as the compliment registered. "–if you didn't—wait, thank you very much. But what do you mean, 'you're not expecting,' what are you talking about? I'm not any good at this girly stuff–"

"Maybe if you'd just _shut up_ for half a second, you'd get it, Jake!" she shouted.

"Fine, your highness. The floor is yours."

Sherry clenched her fists in frustration. "It's just, you said you didn't want to screw things up with me, and I don't want you to worry about it. The two of us aren't exactly in a traditional dating situation, but I'm okay with that. I just...I want to be with you while I can, while you're here."

Jake blinked in surprise. Sherry bit her lip and looked at the floor. "You want to be with me how?" he asked carefully. "You want to hang out and talk, share old battle buddy stories or whatever?" He glanced at the photos on her bookshelf, scowled at an old picture of Leon. "Or by be with me," he turned to look at her, took a step forward, "do you mean you want me to kiss you again?"

"Yes." Her voice was a whisper.

"Which one?"

"I want you to kiss me," she said softly.

His face immediately lit up, but closed down into a guarded expression as he folded his arms and took a step back. "'While you're here,'" he quoted back at her in a high-pitched squeak she assumed was meant to mimic her own voice. "Agent Sherry Birkin," he went on disbelievingly, "are you trying to set up some no-strings-attached fuck buddy thing with me? Am I just some shame fuck to get with and get rid of before anybody–"

" _No_ , God, Jake, don't you ever listen to any–"

"What do you want from me, Sherry?" he broke in impatiently. "Just tell me what you want."

"I like you, and I want to sleep with you!" she shouted, then clapped a hand over her mouth at her own audacity.

"Really?" he said seriously. She nodded. "Well fuck, Sherry. Why didn't you say so in the first place?" 

"You–" she stepped forward and opened her mouth to retort, but he was already there.

He slammed her back against the wall hard enough to rattle the picture frames. His lips were on hers, forcing her mouth open, kissing hungrily, aggressively, as he reached inside her coat. One strong hand held her pinioned in place, thumb hooked under her arm, while the other traveled down her waist to feel the curve of her hip, around to cup her bottom. She gasped as he squeezed, her nerves lighting up as his greedy touch roamed back up her body to the side of her breast. He pushed her thighs apart with his leg, eliciting a surprised squeak. Using his leverage under her arms, he suddenly hoisted her up higher on the wall, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He slid one hand under her bottom to support her weight, and reached up to twine the fingers of his other hand through her hair. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb as he kissed just underneath her jawline, then trailed down her neck with soft touches of his lips, so unlike the demanding kisses of a moment before. But then he wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled, stretching her neck out to his lips and teeth. He kissed her neck tenderly, tested it with his teeth, then bit her hard enough to make her cry out and wriggle against him. He sucked hard at her neck, changing her cry into a moan. She gripped his shoulders as he hoisted her higher and moved on to kissing her breasts through the fabric of her shirt and bra. She balanced with one hand on his shoulder while she raked the other through the red stubble that covered his head. He made a low, guttural noise and rubbed his face against her breasts as if he were a big cat. “Jake,” she breathed, shoving her hand under the collar of his coat and digging her nails into his back. His hands were busy in her hair, stroking her face and neck, feeling the firm flesh of her bottom through her skirt. He ran his lower hand down her leg to the knee, slid it under her skirt, and squeezed her upper thigh as he nuzzled her breasts. “Jake,” she gasped, insistent. He raised his head to put his lips back on hers. “I want to touch you,” she breathed. He scanned her eyes, bit her gently on the chin. With a nod of assent, he lowered her to the floor.

When she was safely back on her feet, still pressed between the wall and his body, Jake ran his hands up her sides and neck to hold her face, pressing his lips to the top of her head. She put her hands under his coat, but he stopped her, seizing her wrists. “Wait." He stepped back a pace and shucked his long coat off in one motion, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath the coat, he wore a pistol holstered under his arm. "I try not to go anywhere unarmed," he said, with a shrug of explanation. "I’m not the fucking Wolverine like this girl I know."

Sherry watched as he removed the holster and lowered the weapon to the floor. The buttons at the neck of his shirt were undone, revealing his collarbone and a little slice of skin at his upper chest. She licked her lips, then blushed when she realized he was watching her stare. He reached for her. “No, here,” she ordered, pushing him out of the hallway toward the living area. His eyes glinted with amusement at her attempt to physically propel him into the room. He grabbed her arm and moved her in front of him. As they neared the couch, he spun her around to face him and pushed her down onto her back, supporting his weight as he followed so as not to crush her beneath him. He was warm, solid. She reached up and put her arms around him as he lowered his head to meet her mouth. As the kiss deepened, he pressed harder against her and her hips moved in response. She couldn't think, consumed with the immediacy of sensation. His lips, his skin, the firm muscles of his back under her hands—he was an overwhelming force within her arms, constrained with effort by his bones and sinews. She could feel the deep thrum of his heartbeat against her chest, the rush of hot blood through his veins. She pressed against him eagerly and wrapped her legs around his hips.

Jake kissed her like a starving man offered food. She was soft under his touch—skin, hair, _lips_ —pulling him closer on top of her, spreading her legs to grind against him. Goddamn, who would've thought he'd end up in Sherry Birkin's apartment, tonight or ever? Those long legs—he'd tried not to look when they were on the run together (easier when there were lots of J'avo around than it was during the endless, aching miles in between), but somehow he couldn't stop thinking about them. Now they were wrapped around him, Sherry moaning against his mouth as he kissed her. This might be a mistake, but there was no going back now, not with her writhing underneath him, kissing him back as good as she got. God, she was a hot little thing. He ran his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back, nibbled his way down her neck to run his tongue across her collarbone. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, mutely begging for his attentions. He kissed lower, slowly, one kiss, two, then slid his other hand up to squeeze her breast. Her response was immediate and enthusiastic. He could feel her nipple harden through her shirt and bra. He kneaded her breast and gently put his teeth to the base of her neck, making her squirm beneath him. She dug her nails into his back. His cock was rock hard; he wanted to fuck her into next week. She stirred against his grip on her hair, breathing faster. "Kiss me," she begged.

"What?" Jake was lost in the scent of her skin, the feel of her breast. 

"Kiss me!"

"I am," he said.

"No, _kiss_ me," she insisted, wriggling to reach his mouth or drag him to hers.

"Always with the demands," he chided, but—smirking—he complied.

After long minutes of kissing, licking, sucking and tasting, Sherry felt maddened with lust. She pushed her pelvis into Jake, straining to grind against the bulge in his pants. He snaked an arm beneath her and sat up, pulling her along with him. Straddling him, facing the back of the couch, she gasped, feeling his erection press up against her panties. She rocked her hips, rubbing her sensitive flesh against his hardness. He groaned and ran his hands up her body to twine in her hair, then kissed her jaw, working his way up to nip at her ear. She gasped and pressed up against him, wrapped him closer in her arms. She shuddered with a quick thrill of pleasure at the sensation of his stubbled scalp beneath her fingers, so familiar to her sight, but new to touch. His breath against her ear ignited little lightning bolts across her skin. She kissed the top of his ear very lightly, then, before she could second-guess herself, tested it with her teeth. Jake made a very masculine sound low in his throat and found her mouth with his own, crushing her to his kiss with one hand at the nape of her neck, the other low on her back. Sherry might have been shocked at the intensity with which she reacted to his body, but the taste of his mouth had her long past the point of self-consciousness. He kissed her thoroughly, hungrily, hands roaming over her body, then pulled back to look her in the eye. 

"May I?" His voice was low; his hands were at the top button of her blouse.

"Yes," she nodded.

He undid the top two buttons and opened her shirt, pulled her closer to kiss her cleavage. He cupped her breasts in his hands, pressing his chin and mouth against her soft flesh. Fuck, he'd never had his hands on a nicer pair of tits. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, flexing his groin in a pang of arousal as she shuddered. He unbuttoned the rest of the damn buttons as quickly as he could, which was pretty fucking fast, and helped her push it off her arms to drop on the floor. Touching her bare skin sent an electric jolt up his spine. She was smooth, pale; her skin was flawless, as though she'd never known an injury. With his eyes on her face, he ran a hand up her back and paused at her bra clasp, looked at her questioningly. For the first time since he'd kissed her, she hesitated, a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks. She ducked her head, looked back up at him shyly, and then reached up and unsnapped the bra herself. That was all the encouragement he needed to rip it off and throw it the hell out of the way. God, she was gorgeous. He lowered his mouth to her right breast, rolling her left nipple between his fingers.

Sherry gasped as Jake's lips touched her sensitive skin, writhed in his lap when he sucked her nipple into his mouth. His right hand teased her left breast, stroking, squeezing, pulling gently at her nipple. He wrapped his left arm around her body and hugged her closer, making her arch her back to press against him. She could feel his erection hot and hard between her legs, and stifled a moan as she felt his teeth against her breast. She felt dizzy with the unlikeliness of this scenario, overwhelmed with sensation and half disbelieving that this was really happening: she was half-naked straddling Jake Muller on her couch, in her apartment. He sucked at each of her nipples in turn, until she cried out. His hands were greedy on her body. "Jake!" Her voice was high-pitched, urgent. He made a low noise and sucked hard at her breast before pulling back to meet her eyes. She seized his face in her hands and kissed his lips, moaning against his mouth as he pulled her closer in a possessive grasp. The rough touch of his calloused fingertips against her skin felt better than anything. His breath, his smell, the solid warmth of his body—it was life to Sherry. She wanted more. Scooting back on his lap, she grabbed his belt buckle to unhook it. 

"Whoa, wait," Jake said, voice deeper than usual. When she ignored him, he stopped her with his hands on her wrists. "Wait…" He sounded as if he were slightly dazed, trying to remember something important. "God, it's not that I don't want to, super girl—I guess you've never had to worry about diseases or anything, but…I mean, we probably shouldn't risk unleashing a virus-resistant super baby on the world or anything." To his surprise, her lips curved up into a smile. 

"Come on," she said, crawling backward off his lap to stand. Jake watched her, transfixed by the motion of her breasts swaying as she moved. Her eyes were huge and inviting, her lips were pink from kissing him and parted slightly. Fuck it, what else was he going to do? It would take a much better man than he was to walk away now. He followed close on her heels as she walked to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe to watch as she crossed the room and opened a drawer. Sherry rummaged inside, then threw something back across the room to Jake. He snatched it out of the air with one hand, looked at the gold foil wrapper for a long moment before looking back at Sherry. His eyes were narrow.

"How many guys do you bring up here?" he said. 

"Very few, not that it's any of your business," she responded archly, unzipping her skirt. He watched with narrowed eyes as she dropped the skirt to the floor and stepped out of it. She stood facing him in nothing but blue panties. "What?" she said, glancing up to see his expression. "Did you think I was a virgin? I'm a grown woman, Jake. I've been living on my own for three years now." His face was still stony. Sherry sighed, then smiled. "I wasn't intending to bring anyone home tonight, but I think it's good to be prepared, just in case an unexpected opportunity comes along." She shot him a meaningful look, then bent forward and pushed her panties down her legs, stepped out of them and kicked them aside. She put a little extra wiggle in her walk as she strutted naked to the bed. She sat down daintily on its edge, then drew her legs up to the side, leaning back on her hands. "You coming?" she asked casually, eyebrow raised. 

Jake pushed off the doorframe and yanked his shirt off over his head in one smooth motion, stalked to the bed in three predatory strides. He unhooked his belt buckle with his left hand, unbuttoned his pants. Sharp lines of muscle ran from his hips down toward his groin. He had several scars on his arms and torso, and a scattering of freckles dotted the tops of his shoulders. Sherry took a shaky breath, suddenly intimidated by the electric aura of muscle and power that emanated from the man standing over her. But she wanted this. She'd thought about this. She'd asked for this. 

Jake smiled down at her, the barest upturn of one corner of his mouth, and she couldn't help but smile shyly back. At that, he grabbed her legs and flipped her from her hip onto her bottom, spreading her wide open to face him. He grinned with pleasure at Sherry's gasp, and leaned down to give her vulva a long, lingering look. His eyes were hot when he looked back up at her face. Watching her, he put two fingers in his mouth, then reached down between her legs. Sherry spasmed slightly as he touched her, arching back against the bed. His eyes on her face were hungry as he slid his fingers inside of her. She inhaled sharply, feeling simultaneously reckless and vulnerable. His fingertips lit up nerve endings she'd never known, shooting little lightning bolts up her spine, hardening her nipples. He brushed her clit with his thumb, and she jerked as white heat lit up her nerve endings and wiped all conscious thought out of her brain. She clutched at the bedcover as he slid his fingers slowly in and out between her lips. "Jake," she whispered pleadingly, "please."

He slid his fingers out and stroked the length of her vulva with torturous slowness before kicking his pants off. Sherry got a brief glimpse of his cock, long and thick, and then the condom was on. He crawled up over her, pushing her down on her back. Holding his weight on his hands, he leaned down to kiss her, tasting her mouth deeply with his tongue as he positioned himself between her legs. He moved up slightly and kissed her temple as he slid into her. Sherry's upper thighs trembled as her body welcomed the intrusion. He filled her up delightfully, driving out everything but sensation, scent, and an overpowering lust she'd never felt before. She ran her hands over his body as he fucked her, feeling the raw power, the hard muscles, the scars and the hot skin so different from her own. She clutched at his hips with her legs, moving her hips to rub against him as he thrust into her. Jake growled softly and raked the fingers of one hand into her hair, pulling her head firmly back against the bed. She gasped as he slammed into her, his pelvis colliding hard against her swollen lips. He pushed up on his arms, and she looked down to watch his muscles bunch and stretch as he fucked her. She clenched violently with pleasure at the sight of his cock moving in and out of her body. Carefully, she moved her right hand between her legs to find her clit. She moaned softly as she touched herself, but Jake suddenly stopped moving.

"Hey," he said sharply. " _I'm_ the one fucking _you_ here. Put your hands over your head."

"Wha–"

"Over your head. Cross your wrists," he said impatiently. Pulling back, he gripped her hips and yanked her to the edge of the bed. He stood and ran his hands up her legs, licked her left ankle before propping her feet up on his shoulders. He shot a pointed look at her hands, reminding her to hastily cross her arms above her head. He looked down at her in apparent satisfaction, then worked his way back into her. When he was sheathed completely inside her, he placed both of his thumbs on her clit and then, as he thrust into her again, began to stroke. 

It was harder for Sherry to hold her hands still above her head than she would have dreamed.

After a few minutes of thrusting and rubbing, of Jake's hard dick sliding over her most intimate muscles, Sherry's legs suddenly started to shake. "Jake," she gasped, panicky, "Jake, _Jake_ –" He continued to stroke her clit mercilessly, a wolfish grin forming on his face as he moved. She wriggled helplessly, certain she could take no more, and then suddenly orgasm shattered her body around him. She screamed as her vaginal muscles fluttered and gripped around Jake, anchoring her to a single point in space as her mind exploded in blinding waves of sensation. It went on and on as each thrust elicited another spasm of uncontrollable pleasure. As the overwhelming force of orgasm finally slowed and released her, she came back to her senses just in time to look up at Jake as—with a low moan—he thrust into her for one last time and came sheathed inside of her body…which set her off again.

By the time she could speak again, Jake had kissed the arch of her foot, slipped out of her, left the room, and returned cleaned up and condom-free. Lazily, she admired his nude body as he sauntered across the room. He went to the drawer where she'd retrieved the condom, opened it, and fished around inside. He pulled out another foil wrapper, then set it down on the dresser and stared down into the drawer, leaning on his knuckles. Sherry watched in silence.

"You're right, it's not any of my business," he said finally. "I'm glad you're not a nun, obviously. It's just…the thought of you with another man, of some other guy touching you—" He shoved off of the dresser, clenching his fists together. "It _shouldn't_ be any of my business, because if I ever meet one of the fuckers, I want to break all of his fingers. Or yank his arms out of socket, to start. I'll cut that asshole's _tongue_ off…"

"Jake," Sherry said, and waited for him to turn and look at her. She smiled. "Quit being a psycho and come back to bed." 

He glared, but his face softened as his eyes lingered on her. He walked to the bed and reached out to stroke her hair roughly, running his palm over her cheek. His eyes narrowed. "Hey—" He seized her chin and tipped it up, stretching her neck. "That hickey I gave you earlier, it's already gone!"

"What?" Sherry yelped as she scrambled upright. She clapped a hand to her neck. "You gave me a _hickey_?"

"Yeah, several," he replied, his eyes moving slowly over her neckline down to her chest. "Damn, you heal fast. Guess I'll just have to give you some more."

"Don't you _dare_ , Jake Muller," she cried, but his eyes gleamed wickedly. "No, no, don't you even _think_ about–"

He pounced.

Sherry was at a distinct disadvantage wrestling him off, but she could make him work to keep her pinned. She bucked and twisted as he leveraged his weight to capture her securely. He went for her neck and sucked hard enough to make her squeal as she struggled. The firm bulk of his body crushed her into the mattress. She found herself oddly aroused by resisting his efforts to hold her immobile. Twisting her head, she found she could almost reach his ear. Thrusting her hips up suddenly to throw him off balance, she craned down and pulled his earlobe between her lips. A low moan rumbled in his chest. As she finished the kiss with a little nip to his earlobe, he pulled back to look down at her. "So, that's how you wanna play, huh?" Holding her arms pinned by her sides, he slid down to suck hard at her nipple, and the fight was on.

Sherry didn't manage to get her mouth on Jake as much as he did her, but she made it count when she did. The touch of her teeth against his skin seemed to drive him wild, and she bit him perhaps a little harder than she meant to in the heat of competition. On the losing side of the engagement, Sherry found herself kissed thoroughly within minutes as Jake made methodical work of her upper body, sucking, licking, and biting everything he could reach. When he touched his lips gently to the tender skin underneath her breast, she cried out. He nipped her in the same spot, making her shriek. He growled in satisfaction and flipped her over onto her side, wrapping one long leg over her own to hold her in place. He pulled her head back against his shoulder with a hand in her hair, arching her back, and ran his other hand across her hip, then up over her ribs to fondle her breast. His breath was hot on her neck, coming faster than usual, and she could feel the hard length of his erection pressed against her. "Do you want me?" he demanded, voice low in her ear.

"Ye-yes!"

"You like the way I feel inside you?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"You want me inside you again?"

"Do _you_ want to be inside me again?" she purred, arching to rub her bottom against his swollen cock.

"I asked you first," he responded casually, belying the throb of desire she felt stir against her butt.

"Yes, please; please fuck me," she panted, voice straining. "Do you want to fuck me?"

He shifted forward, his tongue flicking over the inner rim of her ear. "More than anything in the world." 

He let her go briefly to retrieve the condom and roll it on, then pushed into her from behind as she lay on her side. Still sensitive from his previous ministrations, Sherry cried out as he entered her. He ran his fingers back through her hair and took a firm grip—not painful, but controlling—as he began to move inside her. Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid in and out, making her gasp each time he rubbed over a particularly sensitive spot on her front inner wall. His free hand roamed over her body and found her breast. He pinched her nipple as he thrust slowly into her, and she cried out. Every little movement, every sensation—every nerve ending was electrified. When she was incoherent with pleasure, squeezing around his cock with delight at each new thrill of sensation, his hand left her breast and traveled lower, between her legs, where his fingers found her swollen clitoris. She shrieked and writhed in exquisite protest at the stimulation. His fingers flexed in her hair, and he growled softly in arousal. She felt his cock flex inside her and cried out again. Slowly, moving his fingers in circles over her clit, he began to thrust again. Reaching back over her head, she raked her fingers over the stubble of his scalp, pushing her hips back against him as he reached the apex of each thrust. Her pulse raced and her breath came fast, and a heavy, swelling warmth grew in Sherry's lower abdomen as he maintained the torturously slow pace he'd set. "Jake," she gasped. "I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out."

He smiled against her neck, a wolfish baring of teeth. "Then don't. Come for me, baby."

At the sound of his voice in her ear, she exploded in rippling spasms of pleasure. He held her legs pinned still with one of his own, fighting to stay inside her as powerful muscle contractions gripped around his cock. As her orgasm slowed, he didn't give her time to recover, but began fucking her fast and hard, pelvis smacking against her ass and thighs. Sherry made a series of guttural noises as the contractions of orgasm stretched on, punctuating each thrust of Jake's hips. She felt frenzied. She needed to bite something. She released her death grip on his head without realizing how hard she'd dug her nails into his scalp. She grabbed his hand, now splayed over her belly, and brought it to her mouth, put his fingers against her lips. Thinking of his hard cock, she sucked two of his fingers into her mouth, pushing them down her throat until her lips touched his calloused knuckles. Jake moaned and pulled her hair. She sucked again and again, crying out around his fingers as he fucked her harder, until he thrust into her one final time with a yell of orgasm.

They lay still and limp, still connected, as they waited for their heartbeats to slow. Sherry could feel Jake's pulse pounding against her back, in her crotch, and wondered whether her own blood pumped as loudly. At length, he slid his fingers out of her mouth. She kissed his fingertips softly. He slid out of her entirely and, with a lingering touch along her side, rolled onto his back. "Goddamn," he said hoarsely. "God _damn_."

"Likewise," Sherry whispered. Then she promptly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Jake felt like moving again, Sherry was out cold. Guess he must have done something right. He cleaned up quickly and put his pants back on, then took a few minutes to snoop around her kitchen. Damn, it'd be nice if there was some vodka stashed somewhere around here. He walked back to the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She had shifted onto her stomach in her sleep, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. She was gorgeous. He felt a small throb of arousal in his groin, and a sharper, deeper pang somewhere near the region of his heart. Jesus Christ, Muller, get it together. He shook his head and retrieved his gun from the foyer, trying to ignore the swelling feeling in his chest and the way his breath caught in his throat when he looked at Sherry. He wondered what he should do now. She'd made it clear that she didn't expect him to hang around, but she might get pissed if he left before she woke up. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Who knew what went on under that blonde hair? He dropped to the floor and did some pushups to clear his head. 

When he finished, he still didn't have any clue what to do. He went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed. Sherry stirred slightly in her sleep, but didn't wake. His chest started doing that weird swelling thing again. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. If she was going to kick him out first thing tomorrow, he'd prefer to make the most of the time he had with her tonight, but he felt oddly reluctant to wake her. She just looked so fucking cute sleeping like that. What did "regular people," as she'd called them, do in situations like this? Cuddle? He'd never cuddled in his life. It would feel awfully good to hold her in his arms, though. He wondered if the other men she'd been with had gotten to hold her, touch her while she slept, and felt a searing stab of jealousy. He punched the air viciously, then breathed slowly in and out, banishing the unwelcome thought from his mind. It was easier to calm down when he looked at Sherry; she seemed to push everything else out of his head. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her shoulder. He traced his index finger gently down the length of her arm, and she smiled in her sleep. He felt an answering smile spread across his own face, and suddenly felt warm all over. What the fuck was she doing to him? It was dangerous to let himself feel this way, but he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to make her mad—well, it'd actually be a lot of fun to make her a _little_ mad, but he didn't want to hurt her. Looked like he'd be staying here for the night. He laid down next to her and, with the sound of her gentle breathing in his ears, drifted off to sleep.

 

 

******** 

 

Sherry woke to the smell of bacon. Bacon? She bolted upright and looked around the room. The bed was a wreck, but everything else looked the same as usual. Jake! She climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the door. Jake was in her kitchen with his back to her, messing around with something on the stove. She slipped around the corner and into the bathroom before he could turn and see her, closing the door behind her. What time was it? She'd left her phone in her coat last night; there was no way to check without going out into the main room. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. Her accelerated healing power might have prevented a hangover, but it did nothing for bedhead. She was a mess. She probably shouldn't take the time for a shower before talking to Jake, though. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and peed, taking care to smooth her hair down after she washed her hands. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, set her shoulders back, and counted to ten. She hadn't been this nervous since she met Jake on her very first field assignment, fighting their way through hordes of mercenaries-turned-J'avo. Might as well get it over with.

She walked out into the room and broke into a smile at the strange sight of Jake Muller preparing coffee in her French press. Butterflies still fluttered in her stomach, but the frightened nerves of a moment before eased as she suppressed a laugh. "Hey," she said by way of greeting, "you finally did make us a hot pot of coffee!"

"Yeah," he replied, pouring a mug, "probably would have done us more good in the middle of that snowstorm, but **–** " He looked up from the coffee and immediately recoiled, throwing up a hand as if to ward her off. " _Jesus_ , Sherry, put some clothes on. You keep walking around in front of me like that, you're not gonna make it to work on time."

Puzzled, Sherry looked down at herself. It hadn't even occurred to her that she was still naked. She glanced back up to see Jake shielding his view from the sight of her, and a wicked impulse to tease him stole over her. "I really don't see what the big deal is, Jake." She smiled and stretched luxuriously, raising her arms high over her head. "It's not like you could catch me, anyway," she taunted.

The instant it took him to set the coffee down gave her a head start. He didn't bother to run around the kitchen counter, but vaulted straight over it in pursuit. Giggling, she ran the few steps back into the bathroom and started to close the door, but he slammed a hand against it and stopped her before she could push it shut or grab her robe from the hook on the back. She took a step back, then another, as he stalked into the room. He wore a menacing smile. "What's that you said to me, blondie?"

Sherry swallowed as she backed up another step. "I said you couldn't catch me." With the next step back she bumped into the wall. No more room to retreat. He was right in front of her now; mere inches separated their bodies. She kept her eyes fixed on the hollow at the base of his throat. The tension that radiated between them hadn't been alleviated by the events of the previous night. If anything, it was stronger.

"I warned you," he whispered, lips close to her ear, and then his hands were on her. He stooped to kiss her neck, nuzzling along her jawline, and she sighed happily and put her arms around his shoulders. Who cared what time it was, anyway? 

His hands slid to her hips and he bent to kiss lower, spending time at each of her breasts before making his way down her belly until he knelt in front of her. He ran his tongue up the ridge of her hipbone and looked up at her, blue eyes gone dark with desire. He took her thighs in his hands and pulled them apart. She clutched at his shoulders to keep her balance as he slid his hands back up to her hips. His mouth brushed against her vulva as he spoke. "You passed out last night before I got a chance to see what you taste like." He licked her slowly, tongue slipping just inside of her lips, ending by sucking at her clit. She gasped. "Mmmmm," he said, "I've been wondering about that for a while now." Then he put his mouth back on her.

He kissed her pussy much like he kissed her mouth: passionate, aggressive. He nibbled, sucked, licked, even occasionally bit her inner thighs, growling softly as if he were devouring her. The sensation was so different from his fingers, or his cock—wet, warm, incredibly intimate and vulnerable. His hands held her hips in an iron grip, keeping her on her feet. As he zeroed in on her clit, she moaned loudly and clenched her hands, knocking her head back against the wall. Pressure built between her legs as he licked and sucked rhythmically at her clit. After a few minutes of concentrated assault on her most sensitive nerve endings, her legs started to shake. "Jake," she moaned, pushing at his head, "I can't stand up!" He pulled back with a grunt of frustration, looked left and right, then, without warning, shifted and hoisted her onto the counter around the sink. Balancing her on the edge, he shoved her legs open wide and dove back into his work. Sherry shrieked, splayed open to his lips and tongue. In spite of her uncomfortable position on the cold marble, she could already feel her inner walls beginning to pulse with the rhythm of his tongue. Within moments, it hit her.

Jake grinned against her pussy as she came, savoring the taste of her orgasm in his mouth. Sherry didn't scream this time as she had before, but went dead silent in the intensity of climax. He rolled his eyes upward and watched her breasts quiver as she convulsed in shuddering waves. He pulled at her clit with his lips, moaning, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. He could lick her forever. "Stop, _stop_ ," she gasped at length, pushing his head away. He growled, but relented slightly, shifting his attention to suck and bite her thigh rather than her oversensitized cunt. She yelped and wiggled anyway, making him grin fiercely. God, she was delicious. He would never get enough. 

Sherry clung to the edge of the counter for dear life as Jake worried at her thigh. Her legs felt boneless. With one last nip, he stood and gathered her in his arms, pulling her up to kiss his mouth. She could taste herself on him, and the smell of her sex all over his face was shockingly satisfying. She found herself kissing him back fervently, desperately, plastering her body against his. She leaned forward, straining to reach him as he pulled back and rubbed her cheekbone roughly with his thumb. "I did warn you," he said, voice half an octave lower than usual. 

"I'm glad you caught me," she responded. 

He smiled. "You gonna run away from me again?"

"If that's the consequence of running from you," she said, "I'm _definitely_ going to do it again…as soon as I can walk, that is." He chuckled, and pulled her to his chest. She rested her head against his shoulder to catch her breath. "Jake?" she said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"You need a shower."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't exactly smell like roses, yourself." She stiffened indignantly, but his mouth on hers cut off any response. Sherry found that her legs, so weak just seconds before, wrapped around his waist without hesitation. Within moments Jake's shirt was off, his pants unbuckled. He lifted her suddenly, deposited her unceremoniously in the bathtub. Boots and pants yanked off, he joined her and turned on the shower head. Sherry shrieked as cold water hit her. Jake smiled wolfishly and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her as the water warmed on their skin. Wandering hands, soap on their skin, the steam of the water—everything was slippery, wet and warm. He slapped her ass with a loud smacking sound, making her gasp. She bit his cheek, then moaned at the feeling of his hard cock against her belly. "Fuck it," he said, and ripped the shower curtain open. He was out of the tub and out of sight, naked and dripping water, then returned in seconds rolling a condom onto his cock. He shut off the faucet with one hand and grabbed Sherry with the other, pulling her naked and dripping from the tub to straddle him on the floor. She rocked forward on her knees, gasping at the cold hard tile, then gasped again feeling him poised against her lips, as she pressed down, parting herself around him, sliding down his length. His lips were on her neck, his arms around her. She moved against him, riding him slowly at first, then faster as her body welcomed him. She put her arms around his shoulders and tossed her head back, breathing faster with exertion and the feeling of his cock inside her, his hands on her back. He groaned softly and she slowed, squeezing down around the head of his cock as she rose up on her knees. He groaned more loudly and grabbed her hips, forcing her back down until he was fully sheathed inside her. Hands on her hips, he set the pace, flexing his own hips to thrust up into her. Sherry cried out over the rhythmic slap of his wet skin colliding against hers. Jake's pulse sped faster as they fucked, and Sherry could feel his muscles grow tighter with building tension. She throbbed with the feeling of her breasts moving against his chest, the hard grip of his hands on her hips. Finally, he groaned again, losing his control of her rhythm. She moved faster, riding him hard, and he groaned again, and again, then clutched her tightly as he cried out through clenched teeth, face pressed against her chest.

Breathing hard, they held each other close, his cock still inside her. After a long moment Jake shifted uncomfortably, and Sherry noticed that her knees hurt. Jake cleared his throat and she scrambled off of him, wrinkling her face in discomfort as she straightened stiffly. Both suddenly, oddly bashful, they avoided each other's eyes as they moved to clean up. Sherry showered off while Jake disposed of the condom. He waited until she was through and out of the tub before stepping in himself. Sherry dried herself off and went to get him a towel, tiptoeing through the puddle of water on the floor. Her eyes fell on Jake's hastily discarded clothes—they were soaked. She grabbed a towel for Jake, and several extra for the floor. 

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Your clothes got wet." He swore. "It's okay, I can dry them for you. I, um…I brought you a towel."

"Thanks." He turned the shower off and pulled the curtain back to take the towel from her. Sherry felt her face flush at the sight of his body, and tried not to stare. She handed over the towel and hastened to gather his clothes. 

Safely out of Jake's presence, she wondered why she'd suddenly come over so shy. It was ridiculous, given what they'd just done, but she couldn't control the effect he had on her. She felt almost embarrassingly aware of him, vulnerable and still _so_ attracted. Sleeping with Jake had done nothing to sate her desire for him; if anything, she wanted him even more. The way he looked at her, his touch, his body against hers…she bit her lip. She was standing in front of her washer and dryer, holding his wet clothes. She opened the dryer door, then paused. A slow grin stole over her face. She closed the door, opened the washer, tossed in his clothes and some detergent. She set the machine to the longest wash setting, then went to her bedroom to get dressed.

When she returned, he was back in the kitchen, the towel slung low around his hips. 

"You got some clothes on yet?" he said without looking up. "If you're still naked, I'm gonna bend you over this counter."

"Yes, but that's hardly a fair standard," she objected. "You're not wearing anything but a towel."

"Hey, if you want to come over here and take it off me, be my guest."

She laughed. "I've got to get to work." She moved into the kitchen, trying not stare at his bare chest. 

"There's food." He jerked his head at a frying pan full of eggs and bacon.

"It smells great, thank you!"

"This coffee you've got is total shit. You should buy better stuff."

"Thank you so much for your opinion," she said sarcastically, but without malice. She distributed the food onto plates and handed him one. They ate in silence, standing at the counter. Sherry drank the allegedly shitty coffee; Jake left his untouched. He watched as she rinsed their empty plates in the sink, wondering what she was thinking. He should probably leave before she asked him to get out, but he felt reluctant to go, and besides, she still had his clothes. If she'd been any other woman, he would have been out the door last night, but with Sherry… He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Maybe he shouldn't have gone after her this morning, but last night wasn't enough. He wanted to touch her again, taste her again, while he had the chance. He wondered what she would do if he grabbed her now, pulled her close and kissed her. He shook his head, took a sip of the horrible coffee and made a face. He watched her cross to open the sliding doors that concealed her laundry stuff. She looked amazing in the tight pants she was wearing. Staring at her ass, he forgot and took another sip of the wretched coffee. She took his clothes out of the washer and put them in the dryer, turned a knob to start the thing. Huh. Looked like he was going to be here for a while longer, then. His belt was curled up neatly on top of the dryer, his gun and holster on the small kitchen table. She must have put them there. He had no idea where his boots were. Sherry turned back to face him, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

"I have to leave for work now," she began, "but…" she trailed off, biting her lip. She seemed to be searching for words.

"What? You going to put me out on the street like this?" He pushed off the counter, spread his hands. The towel slipped lower. 

"No!' she exclaimed. He wondered if she realized how her cheeks colored when she looked at him. It was endearing as hell. "Look," she continued, "I know what I said last night, but…" She took a deep breath, looked up at him with earnest blue eyes. "I'm not ready for you to leave yet." She went to the drawer next to him, took out a key. "I don't know how long you've got, if you need to leave for another job or something, but if you're going to be in town for a few days, you should stay here." She pressed the key into his hand. He let her close his fingers over it. Her hands were so small in comparison to his own. "I've got to go, but this is a spare key to the apartment. You can let yourself out when your clothes are ready, and you can let yourself back in later. If you want to, of course." 

He regarded her for a moment, thinking. Her blush deepened, and she rubbed her lips together and looked away. "Thanks," he said slowly. "I might."

"Okay." They stood in silence, unsure or unwilling to part. Finally, Sherry moved. "Okay, bye," she said lamely. She picked up her purse and walked to the door, snatching her coat from the floor as she passed it. 

"Sherry." His voice stopped her, hand on the doorknob.

"Yes?" She turned to look at him.

"I had a good time with you last night, and this morning."

She smiled broadly. "Thanks. Me too."

As the door closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath, her thoughts on the near-naked man in her kitchen. She hoped she'd see him again later.

 

 

********

 

The day dragged by, with just enough work to keep her busy but not enough to stop from thinking about Jake. She ate lunch alone at her desk, and forced herself to stay and annotate reports until the time she usually left for the evening. She took a deep breath before walking out the door of the building, then stepped into the chilly air. 

There was no sign of him on her walk home. She half expected to see him as she passed the corner where he'd appeared the night before, but he wasn't there. Her heart pounded a little faster as she neared her block, nervous butterflies crowding her stomach. Maybe he'd left. The thought made her insides feel hollow. 

As she rounded the corner of her building, she heard someone whistling and broke into a smile. Jake sat, or lounged, rather, on the steps leading up to her apartment, fiddling with something in his hand. It was the spare key to her apartment. He stopped whistling as she approached, put the key in his pocket. 

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

They regarded one another for a moment, then he spoke again. "Looks like I found a reason to stay in town for a few days."

"I'm glad," she said. "So…did you think about my offer to stay here?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. That _is_ my reason, babe."

Sherry felt her cheeks grow warm. "Oh. Good. That's good." A pause. "So, do you want to go inside?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah."

He stood back as she unlocked the door, gestured for her to lead the way up the inner flight of stairs. He followed as she unlocked the door to the apartment and entered. She took off her coat and hung it up, conscious of the weight of his eyes on her. There was a duffel bag and a gun case on the floor outside of the bedroom, presumably Jake's. She carried her purse into the bedroom, then stopped. An enormous carton of condoms sat on the dresser.

"If I'm going to be here for a few days, we're gonna need more," Jake said casually from the doorway.

" _That_ many more?"

"Hey, I thought you'd want your money's worth. You're paying for those."

"Oh I am, am I?"

"Yep. You still haven't finished paying me off." He pushed off of the doorframe, sauntered into the room.

Sherry ripped open the top of the large box. She opened one of the smaller boxes inside, ran her finger over the edges of the foil squares. "I don't have any money on me, I'm afraid." She met his eyes in the mirror. He was standing very close to her.

"Huh-uh, those big blue eyes aren't gonna get you out of it, super girl. And you better be careful before you go offering alternative means of payment," he touched her hip, his voice suddenly low, "because I will work you hard."

She turned to look up at him, leaning back on her hands. "Tough talk, Mr. Muller, but I'm not seeing any action." He smiled at the challenge in her tone and bent to kiss her.

In ten minutes she was naked except for her heels, bent forward over the back of her couch as Jake fucked her from behind. She looked up to see them reflected dimly in the blank TV screen on the wall opposite. Jake's muscles bunched and strained as he moved, his eyes intent on her body. Sherry shuddered, closed her eyes, and came for the first time that night.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Sherry woke to find Jake already out of bed. She rolled over to look at the clock—it was early. She often went into the office to do extra work on Saturdays, but she thought she'd make an exception this time, given the night she'd had. There hadn't been much sleeping, though they had taken a quick break to order takeout. Sherry smiled, remembering her struggle not to giggle, trying to fend Jake off long enough to make the call. She supposed she should go see what he was up to now. She rolled out of bed, looked muzzily at her reflection. Oh, right. She should put something on before going out there; it would be best to make sure she could walk before Jake started chasing her again. Shorts and an oversize t-shirt would have to do until she had a shower. 

Jake was on the floor by her bookshelf, book in hand. As she watched, he finished scanning it and replaced it on the shelf, picked up the next book. She wondered if he'd been systematically examining everything in her apartment, item by item. Probably.  She shuffled across the room to the kitchen, where a pot of coffee sat on the stove. She poured a mug, warmed her hands around it, then took a big sip and almost spit it back out. "Omigod," she sputtered, "this is _strong_!"

"Oh yeah, I got you some real coffee," he said. 

"Is this how you're already awake on two hours of sleep?" she asked incredulously. She went to the cabinet to find her own coffee, but it wasn't in its usual spot.

"Don't bother looking; I threw out that flavored shit you had."

"Jesus Christ, Jake," she swore, then shook her head. She was starting to sound like him. Deciding that silence was the better part of virtue, she kept her mouth closed and went to the freezer, put two scoops of ice cream in the bitter coffee. She noticed a handle of vodka had made its way into the freezer. Jake continued to look through the books on her shelf as she curled up on the couch with her doctored drink. 

"Are you a secret nudist, or something?" he asked mildly.

"I'm wearing clothes!"

"Really." He eyed her legs, put the book he was holding back on the shelf. 

"I don't want to put on _clothes_ clothes before I've had a shower."

"Don't bother," he replied, peering at her speculatively. "I kind of miss you dirty, covered in blood spatter. At least I can still get you sweaty."

She rolled her eyes to cover her blush and took another sip of coffee.

It was an interesting morning, hanging out with Jake. He did go through most of her things while she watched, alternately making smart-assed comments and asking questions. She jumped up and smacked his hand away when he went for her purse, though; she had to draw a line somewhere. He went quiet when she hauled out her yoga mat and went through her usual morning stretching routine. Sneaking glances upside down, she couldn't catch him staring, but whenever she wasn't looking she felt his eyes on her body. When she finished, she rolled up the mat and put it away in the closet. Jake was leaning against the kitchen counter. 

"You want to...go somewhere, or something?" he asked. 

She walked over and smiled up into his eyes, kissed him on the mouth. They spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch, then the floor, and back again.

 

********

 

Later that evening, freshly showered, they took a break to watch a movie. Jake was surprised by Sherry's preferences. 

"That one? Really? I would've figured you more for the chick flick type of girl."

Sherry laughed. "Action movies _are_ my chick flicks, Jake. Look at this one, the world gets attacked by aliens, and the guy narrowly escapes and teams up with this scientist lady who researches extraterrestrial life. They start to care about each other over the course of their mission, and at the end they manage to defeat the aliens, and then they kiss!" she said enthusiastically. "And there are plenty of firefights and explosions. Honestly, it's just so much more realistic than most chick flicks." She laughed again. "And _this_ one…" she selected another choice from the menu on the TV, "See! That's the heroine, who spent most of her life locked up in a lab." She looked at him with round blue eyes.

"Yeah? Sounds kinda like this sexy blonde chick I met once." He reached for her.

"Oh, shut _up_ ," she replied, pushing him away playfully. He grabbed her arms and drew her closer, interrupting the conversation for several minutes until Sherry pulled away, laughing, to continue. " _Anyway_ , the hero breaks her out, and she turns out to be incredible, she's got special abilities and is a great fighter. They fight their way through this army of zombies— _see_ , I told you these movies were more realistic—and then at the end, she faces down the bad guy who held her captive, and she defeats him. And she falls in love with the hero!" She giggled, then smiled sheepishly. "It's just blatant wish fulfillment. I guess I really don't see too much difference between 'guy' movies and chick flicks."

Jake looked at her quietly for a moment before speaking. "You know, I hate that they did that to you. That you had to go through that stuff, but…" He trailed off, then bumped her gently with his shoulder. "I'm glad you toughed it out. And I can't say I'm too sorry you're so damn hard to kill now." He thought the smile she gave him then might melt his brain out of his ears. He looked away quickly before he started beaming like an idiot. Sherry scooted closer to him on the couch and nudged his arm upward, wriggling her way underneath. For a heartbeat he held very still, afraid she would move away if he shifted, but when she settled herself in more comfortably he relaxed a bit. As the opening credits started to roll, he couldn't control it any longer; he watched the first half hour of the zombie lab girl movie with his arm around Sherry, a big stupid smile on his face. 

 

********

 

By the time the movie approached its climax they were on their feet, squaring off in the middle of the room, the couch shoved haphazardly out of the way against the opposite wall. Jake, growing restless partway through, had started mocking the characters' choreographed fighting moves, which led to an argument, which grew into a sparring match/hand-to-hand fighting tutorial. 

"No, like this," he insisted, adjusting the position of her arm. "You throw it there and I'm just gonna dodge you and come back in to hit here."

Sherry was breathing hard, incensed, but she paid close attention nonetheless. Jake knew what he was talking about when it came to this stuff. "Like this?" she asked, lashing out quickly in hopes of catching him off guard. He grinned as he slipped aside again, eyes gleaming. Continuing the movement, she tried to sweep his legs out from under him, but he was too fast. Snatching her arm, he did something to twist her around and use her own momentum to take her to the floor. Pinning her underneath him, he put his teeth to her neck. 

"Nope," he said. He wasn't even winded. His lips were hot on her neck. "Try again." He popped back up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. Gamely, she stood up, threw a punch at him…and once more ended up on the floor.

After a dozen more tries, she landed a solid blow to his jaw, surprising her so much she jumped. "Are you okay–" she started, eyes wide, but lost her voice as he caught hold of her arm and turned her sharply around, neatly trapping her with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You'd have to hit a lot harder than that to hurt me, super girl," he murmured, nuzzling into her hair, "but it's a start."

Sherry was suddenly aware of the length of his body pressed against her back, the steely strength in his hands. Unconsciously, she arched her back slightly, pressing her bottom against him and straining against the confinement of his arms. "You're hard," she whispered, voice husky.

"You're soft," Jake countered, stooping to place his lips to the nape of her neck. 

"No, you're _hard_ ," she giggled, squirming against his erection. "Do you like getting punched in the face?"

"Not usually," he rumbled, squeezing her more tightly. "Guess it feels better coming from you."

Sherry's heart beat faster, and she rubbed against him provocatively. "I can think of some other things I'd like to do to you." She felt him smile against her neck.

"Can you, now?" he said, without releasing his grasp on her arms. "Things that feel better or worse than getting punched in the face?"

"Better," Sherry breathed. "Promise."

"I got your word on that?"

"What's the matter, Mr. Muller? Afraid you can't take me?" she teased. At that, he released her, keeping his grip on one of her hands and spinning her away from his body as if they were dancing. 

"I'd love an excuse to try," he said, grinning down at her with predatory eyes.

Immediately, before she could telegraph her intention, Sherry lunged forward and pushed Jake with all her strength. She laughed at the look on his face as he fell backward onto the couch, and held up a hand before he could spring back up with revenge in mind. "Stay," she ordered. She pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside as she moved toward him. As he watched warily, she dropped to her knees, ran her hands up his thighs. "A lot better," she added in a low voice, reaching for his belt buckle.

"Sherry…" he began, shifting in his seat–

"Shut up, Jake." She unbuckled his pants, yanking them down so his erection sprang free.

"Yes ma'am," he responded, falling back and holding up his hands in surrender.

Sherry ignored his smart mouth. She was far more interested in another part of his anatomy. She bent forward and touched her lips to the head of his cock, flicked her tongue against the underside in exploration. His cock was so hard, but the skin was so soft, unlike any other part of his body. He smelled so different from herself, so masculine. She moved down to suck at his balls—so delicate, so unlike the hardness of his length—and licked slowly back upward to draw his head between her lips. Unbidden, he flexed against her mouth in arousal, and she was overwhelmed with a desire to swallow him down, to devour the rampant sexual energy radiating off of him. Grasping the base of his cock with her hand, she forced the length of him down her throat, sucking him down as far as she could.

Jake inhaled sharply, transfixed by the wet, warm tightness of her mouth and the sight of her on her knees, wantonly sucking him off. His dick looked huge in her grasp, her face intent with concentration as she worked her perfect little pink lips up and down the length of his cock. It felt amazing. He squirmed slightly and flexed involuntarily in her mouth, unable to sit still against the sensation. He reached down and touched her hair, gently, then, when she made a soft noise of appreciation, ran his fingers more roughly through its softness. He stroked her ear, then pressed his palm against her face, letting his hand ride against the motion of her face and neck as she moved up and down, sucking him. He gave a low groan, eyes tracing her delicate features, moving down to linger on her naked tits. Her nipples were puffy, pink, so soft; he wanted to touch them, suck them, slap them lightly, tease and tickle and torture and make them go hard. Stretching out his other arm, he touched the tip of her breast with his fingertips, stroked gently, then pulled her nipple between his fingers. She moaned in pleasure around his cock as he pinched, and forced his length down her throat so enthusiastically that she gagged. "Sherry?" he spoke up, concerned, but a sultry flash of her blue eyes shut him up and kept him in his seat. He relaxed back against the couch as she sucked on his cock, surrendering himself to the sensation.

Pressing her breast into his hand, she made a little mewling sound of desire in her throat. She lifted her head, wearing a questioning, almost innocent little smile, and rose up higher on her knees. Leaning forward, she rubbed her gorgeous breasts—first one, then the other—against his cock and balls. Jake moaned and reached out to touch, but she slapped his hand away. Taking her breasts in her own hands, she pressed herself between his legs and wrapped her soft breasts around his hardness. Sherry's pert perfect tits were full, but not huge, and her nipples met one another in front of his swollen cock. Jake groaned loudly in arousal and frustration as she moved slowly up and down, rubbing his dick between her tits, lubricated with the wetness of her mouth. With another low sound, he reached out and put his hands over hers, squeezing her soft breasts and flexing his hips. He had to move. Holding her in place with his hands on her hands and breasts, he thrust his hips sharply and began to fuck the gap created by her cleavage. Sherry's big eyes went wide and she gasped in arousal, her nipples tightening. He held her gaze as he thrust hard and fast, eyes intense as his cock slid between her tits. Blushing, she met his hot stare, holding her head up to avoid being slapped on the chin by his dick.

Never would Jake have foreseen Sherry Birkin sucking his cock more eagerly than the dirtiest slut he'd ever had the misfortune to bed during his earliest mercenary days—well, maybe in a few particularly vivid daydreams, he might have imagined it—but even in his wildest fantasies he'd never dreamed of something so incredible as Sherry on her knees, squeezing her breasts around his hard-on as he fucked her tits, and from the look on her face, enjoying it hugely. After a moment he stopped, feeling himself on the edge of orgasm and wanting to prolong the moment. Sherry dropped her head and slurped eagerly at his cock. "Sherry, stop," he began, "I'm about to come…" Looking up at him from under her eyelashes, she shot him a mischievous glance and kept right on going. "Damn it, super girl, I want to fuck you–" She smiled as best she could with her mouth stretched around him—a slight tightening of her lips around him—and blatantly ignored his protest. One, two, three times she sucked the length of him, hard; her gentle fingertips touched the sensitive skin under his balls, teasing—and he exploded in her mouth. Waves of stunning pleasure wiped out every conscious thought in his brain. He was dimly aware that she swallowed his semen and kept sucking on the head of his cock as he came, kept sucking as the orgasm pulsed on and slowly died away, kept sucking when the head of his cock was too unbearably sensitive to withstand any more sensation. She struggled against him in playful resistance as he pushed her away. 

Holding her by her shoulders, he looked at her sternly. His heart was pounding and his breath came fast, but his voice, when he spoke, was even and ever-so-slightly menacing. "You're in trouble."

Before Sherry could respond, he pulled her up and practically tossed her onto the couch next to him, then shoved her down on her back. "Jake," she squeaked in feeble protest as he yanked her pants and panties down her thighs. 

"Shut up, Sherry," he grunted, voice gone low. "Isn't that what you said?" She giggled and bit her lip in (mostly) feigned nervousness at the threat in his voice, and wiggled her shoulders to settle herself more comfortably as he lowered his lips to her clit. She didn't stay there for long, arching up off of the couch with a gasp as his tongue found its mark. He was merciless, sucking and nibbling directly on her clit until she came to the very edge of orgasm, when he pulled back to oh-so-gently run his tongue along the edges of her lips before resuming his attack on her overstimulated nerve endings. By the third time he did it, she was begging, pleading incoherently for release. Sliding a finger into her wet pussy, Jake relented and gave it to her, sucking steadily on her clit until she came screaming, writhing against his mouth. But he didn't stop there. As the orgasm stretched on, Sherry's muscles clenching and rippling in uncontrollable waves of pleasure, he kept right on sucking, driving her past the edge of endurance.

"Jake, JAKE," she shrieked, trying to wiggle away from the exquisite torture, but he had an iron grip on her hips and wasn't at all inclined to stop. She screamed and thrashed, tears leaking out of her eyes at the intensity of the sensation, and just when she thought she could take no more, another orgasm hit her. When—at length—he finally relented, she fell back limp on the couch, insensible. Raising his head to observe the result of his handiwork, he gave a low grunt of satisfaction: she was breathless, her eyes dark and glassy, shivering with little aftershocks of orgasm. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. The sight of her, her scent, the softness of her skin…he was hard again, and he wanted to fuck her more than ever. Grinning, he reached into the pocket of his still-undone pants, thankful he'd had the foresight to stash a condom in his pocket. Sherry watched silently, lazily through heavy lidded eyes as he rolled it on and lowered himself on top of her. Her pupils were huge. As he slid into her—god, she was so tight, so _wet_ —she gave a shuddering cry and wrapped her arms and legs around him, clutching him tightly to her body. He fucked her slowly, tenderly, feeling every inch in and out, feeling every little ripple and shudder of her muscles reacting to his body. He had never experienced anything like this before, such raw intimacy as they moved slowly together, sharing each other's sensations. When he finally came—in slow, drawn-out waves of ecstasy, he felt as if he was melting into her. 

Panting, they lay wrapped tightly around each other. Jake was completely blissed out. He had never felt this way before in his life. He felt so fucking happy, and sated, and damn if he didn't love—wait just a goddamn second, love? _Love_? That swelling feeling in his chest was bothering him again; his heart felt heavy, and warm, and it just felt too good to fucking stand. He panicked. Scrambling off of her, he had his pants buckled back up and was pulling his shirt back on over his head before Sherry realized what was happening. 

"That was amazing," she said happily, voice husky. She smiled up at him.

"Yeah," he said shortly. He shoved his feet into his boots and began to lace them up, his face grim.

"Going somewhere?" Sherry teased, still smiling.

"Yeah." He was curt. 

"I'm afraid you're going to have to give me a minute," she said, gesturing weakly at her body. She laughed. 

"No," he snapped angrily, "not you…I just—I just need to get some air, okay?"

"Oh…okay," she replied, bewildered. She watched in silence as he picked up his gun, buckled on the holster. He swung his long coat on over his arms and stalked to the door.

"Don't wait up for me," he said, without looking back. The door slammed behind him, and Sherry was left alone, naked, suddenly cold on the couch. 

 

********

 

She lay still for a time, staring at the door in shock and hurt. Then, the sound of the slamming door still echoing in her mind, the scent of his skin still lingering on her body, she went hot all over in a sweeping surge of anger. She pushed up off the couch and stood, glaring impotently at the empty room. "What the hell is your problem?" she shouted. What _was_ his deal, anyway? Moments ago he was holding her as if he'd never let her go, his heart beating hard against her chest, and then he was just gone, as if a wall of ice rose up between them. She was so angry she thought she might try to punch him again if he were here right now. Her throat constricted painfully, and she felt as if she might cry, or scream. She didn't want to do either. Instead she stomped into the kitchen and jerked open the freezer door, yanked out Jake's bottle of vodka. She didn't have any shot glasses, so she just grabbed a coffee mug—the same one Jake had drunk from yesterday morning, she noticed, which made her even madder—poured what she guessed was about a shot's worth of liquor in it, and tossed it back. The vodka was cold, but it burned going down her throat. It tasted awful, but it felt good with her anger, chilling and stoking the flames in her chest all at once. She poured another drink, more this time, and swallowed it down, too. She was suddenly aware of Jake's sweat and saliva all over her body. How dare he leave her alone like this, how _dare_ he? Slamming the empty mug down on the counter, she stalked to the bathroom and climbed in the shower, where she tried to scrub the hurt away along with the lingering feeling of his caresses on her skin. Despite her best effort to hold them back, several hot tears leaked out of her eyes and ran down her face with the steaming water. What had she expected, really? She knew it had been a bad idea to invite him to stay here, but she'd done it anyway. _Be with you while I can_ , she remembered, the words echoed in her mind. She knew it couldn't last, knew it would probably end badly, but she'd wanted him so much. She thought she'd be able to enjoy her time with him and keep her emotions separate, safe when the time came for him to move on. She should have known better. She just didn't realize exactly how much it could—how much it _would_ —hurt when it ended.

When the water ran cold, she toweled off and walked naked back to the kitchen, where she drank another shot of vodka. "Don't wait up," damn it, she _wouldn't_ wait up, asshole. She wouldn't spend another second sitting up thinking about Jake, wondering what he was doing right now, trying to puzzle out what he was thinking. Fuck Jake Muller, she thought hotly. Or don't, rather, that's what led to all this trouble in the first place. One more drink of vodka made her feel slightly dizzy; her ears were ringing and her thoughts felt slow and stupid. She shuffled to her room and fell into bed, where she drifted into a troubled, broken sleep. 

Much later—or maybe not, she had no way to tell—she felt Jake slide into bed beside her. His body was warm, and he was naked. Tentatively, he touched her arm, then seemed to come to a decision. He moved close and put his arms around her. In the haze of sleep, Sherry still felt angry and unsettled, but it was dark and warm and she couldn't quite remember why. She would work it out in the morning. Wrapped securely in his arms, she sighed and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Sherry woke suddenly, aware, before consciousness crept in, that she was trapped. 

Opening her eyes, she blinked and realized that Jake still held her tightly from behind. He was motionless, his breathing steady. She swallowed her startled heartbeat back down her throat, and slowly relaxed. She tried to slip out of bed, but his arms were locked tightly around her. She pushed at his arm. No good. He was clinging to her with a death grip. "Jake?" she said softly. He didn't answer. "Jake?" she repeated more loudly, struggling against his hold. "Are you awake?"

"…no," he muttered into her hair. 

"Let go of me. I'm getting out of bed."

"No," he said again, squeezing her even more tightly.

Sherry went still. "I have to pee."

Jake groaned and released her. "Come back to bed," he told her retreating back.

 

Sherry glared at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She was still angry with Jake, and confused. She couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, though. Sighing, she snatched her robe off its hook on the back of the door. She didn't want to be naked in front of him right now. 

He was sitting up in her bed, resting an elbow on his knee. He watched her warily as she walked back into the room. She leaned her hip against the dresser, arms crossed over her chest. "Hey."

"Aww, c'mon, super girl, don't be like that. Come here," he said, reaching out to her.

Sherry drew herself up straighter. "No."

"Okay, fine," he said easily, throwing the covers aside. "I'll come over there."

"No, Jake–" she insisted, but he was already out of bed, tall and naked. She looked directly up into his eyes, refusing to let her gaze wander. "No. We need to talk."

"No, no no no no," he said, sliding his hand over her waist. He pulled her hips toward him, his hands warm through the silky material of her bathrobe. He leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled away. 

"Jake, I want to talk about what happened last night."

He ran his thumb over her hipbone, leaned in to kiss her again. "I don't want to hear anything but that little sound you make when you're about to cum."

" _Jake_." Her tone was dangerous.

Jake sighed. "Look, Sherry, I don't want to talk about it. I'm here, aren't I?" He looked down at her pleadingly. "Just come back to bed, okay? I'll get you off, it'll all be good."

Her face might have been carved of stone. "Why did you leave?"

He sighed dramatically and turned away, martyred. "You just can't let it go, can you?" Sherry didn't answer. He paced back to the bed, ran a hand restlessly over his head. He was obviously uncomfortable. "Look, I…" He paused, searching for words. "I like you." When she didn't respond, he turned to look at her. "I _like_ you," he repeated.

"I know that, Jake. That's not what I asked. I want to know why you left last night."

"Look," he said, face softening in resignation, "Sherry…I don't get close to people. You start to care about somebody, and they die on you. It's a liability." 

Sherry held her face immobile, listening. She knew what she had let herself in for; she never expected Jake to stick around and be a model boyfriend. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth to respond—but he wasn't done. 

"But you," he continued slowly, as if the words were being dragged out of him, "You're pretty tough. The first time I met you I thought I was going to have to watch you die. You had a fucking piece of plane stuck through you. But you're still here." He looked directly at her, eyes full of meaning. "And I'm still here, too."

Sherry returned his gaze in silence, considering what to say. Jake moved back toward her.

"Don't be mad." He touched her arm tentatively. "Come on, stop it," he cajoled. "Look," he continued, putting his arms around her, "I'm not gonna let go until you quit being pissed off."

Sherry went rigid for an instant, but then her lips curved up in a small smile. "Fine, _fine_!" she relented as he squeezed her tighter.

"You're not mad anymore?" he demanded, leaning back and pulling her up on her tiptoes.

"Jake! You're hurting me."

"Fuck. You're still pissed," he sighed, but relaxed his grip and let her slide back to her feet. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm not 'pissed' at you, Jake," Sherry said, "it's just that…if you like me, it'd be nice if you don't get weird and run away without explanation."

"Deal." His voice was gentler than usual. "Hey, I'll make us some coffee, okay?" She smiled back, a real smile. 

"I'd like that," she said sincerely. His eyes were relieved as he strode out of the room to the kitchen. Sherry ran her hands through her hair, let out a deep breath. What were they getting themselves into? She didn't know, but it felt good, and it seemed too late to turn back now. 

From the direction of the kitchen, she heard Jake whistle loudly. "Damn, looks like somebody hit the bottle last night," he called. "Hey!" Sherry looked up as Jake reappeared in the doorway, tall, muscular, the usual boundless, barely-contained energy radiating off his body. He looked delighted. "You like me, don't you?"

Sherry was surprised. "You know I like you, Jake."

"No, you said some stuff about wanting to fuck me while I'm around, but you _really_ like me," he said. He looked more satisfied with himself than usual, which, with Jake, was saying something. "Nobody downs half a bottle of vodka over some no-strings fuck buddy," he went on. Sherry couldn't think how to respond to that, but her face must have said it for her, because his smile grew even broader. "Come here," he ordered.

She walked over to the bed instead, daring him with her eyes. "No," she said defiantly, chin in the air.

"Okay, fine," he replied, moving toward her. "I'll come over there." 

 

********

 

Jake didn't let her up until he had her screaming his name, legs quivering as she throbbed around him in climax. That should make up for taking off last night, he reasoned. You never knew with women, though. Maybe he should get her off again, just in case.

"Jake!" Sherry gasped, fumbling his hands away. "Let me catch my breath," she panted.

He rolled off of her onto his back, watching her chest heave with her breathing. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, her short blonde hair splayed around her head. She was beautiful. He loved making her come undone like this. He'd never experienced anything like it. With other chicks, he'd wanted them to have a good time, of course, but he never really gave a damn. With Sherry, every time he touched her, he wanted to touch her again. Every time they fucked, he just wanted her that much more. This was probably what drug addicts felt like. _Eh_. He shrugged mentally. Once you already had the needle in your arm, you might as well enjoy the ride. Sherry looked over to catch his gaze, gave him a smile. He smiled back lazily, luxuriated in the feeling of warmth that spread across his stomach when her eyes met his. Yeah, anything that felt this good was definitely going to fuck him up eventually. But right now, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

She rolled over and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Slow down, super girl," he protested, reaching for her arm, "you running out on me?"

She shot him an exasperated look, but leaned back down and kissed him softly. "No," she replied, disentangling herself from his greedy hands, "but I've got to get something to eat, I'm starving." 

By the time Sherry had her robe back on, Jake was already in the kitchen, banging pans around. "I hope you washed your hands first," she commented dryly. He smirked and kept working, watching out of the corner of his eye as she went to the sink and scrubbed her own small hands. Neither of them spoke as they prepared breakfast; they were courteous with one another, working together quickly and silently until they had two plates loaded with food. Sherry handed one to Jake, and they stood eating at the counter. 

"So," Jake said through a mouthful of egg, gesturing with his fork, "do you just, not sit down to eat?"

"What?" Sherry swallowed her own mouthful. "I mean, yeah, what–"

"I was just curious; we stood up the other time we ate breakfast in here. I'm just, you know, trying to picture what you do usually. What your life's like."

"Oh." Sherry considered the question. "I guess I do— _don't_ sit down, that is. I'm not here very often during the day; I eat breakfast like this and then I usually have dinner at the office or on the way home, so…" She shrugged. 

Jake chewed thoughtfully, gazing at her. "You work too hard, Birkin," he said.

"You're one to talk," she retorted, her eyes tracing the scars on his face and body. "Anyway, it's not that, not entirely. I like to spend a lot of time out, when I can. I start to feel a little trapped if I stay inside for too long."

"Ah, gotcha," he replied. He wolfed down his last bite, then moved toward her, setting the plate aside. "I gotta say, though," he touched her hip with one finger, "I think your apartment's a little better than that prison in China."

Sherry laughed. "Yeah, _you_ aside, this is infinitely preferable to a Neo-Umbrella detention facility. Or government protection."

" _Me_ aside? I thought I was the draw, here!"

She smiled. "I guess that six months in China could have been more fun if they'd kept us in the same room."

"Mmm, with you wearing that little white–"

"More fun if I survived it, that is!" she interrupted, pushing away. "You're wearing me out!"

"Nice try, Sher," he countered, pulling her toward him and lowering his mouth to her neck, "but I know you can survive a hell of a lot."

"Jake, _Jake_ ," she giggled, struggling playfully but determinedly against his embrace, "I really do need a break! I love the way you touch me, I love the things you do to me–"

"Yeah? You love it when I touch you?" His voice was low, his breath hot on her neck.

 "–but we never left the apartment yesterday–" 

"What things do you love most? Do you like it when I–"

"–and I'm going to go crazy if I don't get out for a bit!"

"But Sherry," he complained, pouting as she moved away, "going out to do stuff costs _money_ , and staying here and fucking your brains out is free _and_ will be more fun than anything else you can think of. Guaranteed."

She laughed again. "Come on. Let's go for a walk in the park."

"Fine," he sighed, lifting his hands in resignation. "Fine, I'll go on your walk. But there's a price."

She waited, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

His answering smile was wicked. "All those 'things' you mentioned, the things you love for me to do to you? You've got to tell me every one of them. In detail."

 

********

 

Sherry was blushing violently by the time they reached the park entrance. "Jake _Muller_ , I am not going to say that out loud!" she hissed as they passed a family with children.

"Why not? You should have heard the noises you made while I was _doing_ it, Jesus–"

"Jake!"

"Fine, tell me another one, then."

"Okay. Let me think." Walking along, she looked up at him. "I like the way you look at me."

He scoffed. "Get out."

"No, really. Your eyes…they're hard, most of the time. It's hard to tell what you're thinking—well, unless you're mad, or frustrated about something, and you don't exactly keep it a secret when you're unimpressed...but you're guarded. You have a wall up behind your eyes. But sometimes, when you look at me, your eyes look happy. Sometimes I feel like I'm actually seeing _you_." They walked on in silence for a few steps. "And the way you look at me when you want to, you know," she hurried on quietly.

"Yeah?"

"When you want to kiss me, when you want to touch me," she whispered, " _you know._ No, I am not going to say it in the park!" She threw him a stern look. "The way you look at me then, when you want me, it almost looks like you want to _eat_ me, but in a good way, and—" she moved close to him, rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "It makes me wet, when you look at me like that."

He stared as she stepped back, her eyes averted.

"Stop it!" she hissed, her cheeks coloring. "You're doing it now!"

"I can't help it!" he protested, following her down the path. "Hey, you think you've had enough of the great outdoors yet? We could just go back to your apartment now and–"

"Stop looking at me!"

 

Jake got whatever the hell his eyes were doing under control by the time Sherry stopped blushing and fell back into step with him, and he felt an overpowering urge to take her hand. He reached out and grabbed it before he had a chance to think about it. Christ, it was stupid to get all weird about wanting to hold her hand, he'd been inside the woman less than an hour ago. And she wasn't just some woman, she was Sherry. He'd get used to it, he guessed, wanting sappy shit like that.

"Jake?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering, where did you learn to speak Italian? And read Chinese?"

"Just picked it up. When I was a kid, Mom and I lived next to this old Italian expat for a while. I spent a lot of time with him while she was at work. Cool guy, I learned a lot of stuff from him. And the Chinese—that's Cantonese, actually—worked with some Chinese guys on a campaign a few years back. I don't know much, but enough to read some signs." 

"You just…picked it up? Without lessons or anything?"

"Yeah. I've always been fast at shit like that. I guess it makes sense, now that I know my dad was some sort of freak evil genius. Comes in handy, anyway; lets me work in a lot of different places."

"Wow, that's incredible. And you can play the piano too, can't you?"

"Yeah. Same Italian neighbor."

"Gosh, you hit the jackpot living next to him!"

"He was an all right guy. Mom and I had some good years there."

"What's your mom like?"

"Dead. But before, she was great. She was always good to me. She took care of me when I was a kid. I tried to take care of her when she got sick, started working to support us then, but her treatment wasn't successful. I was out in the field when she died. I came back long enough to give her a funeral, just me and the priest. Then I went back to work and never stopped since, til you turned up to recruit me to save the world."

"Why," she paused, hesitant. "Why did you become a mercenary? Was it the money, or, just…how do you get into that, as a career?"

"Ha!" Jake let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Sherry, I wasn't a good kid. I learned Italian and piano and stuff, but I could do that fast. I had plenty of time to get into...other stuff, and I'm really good at fighting. It's a no-brainer if you've got the skills and you happen to fall in with the right people."

"But you had to kill _people_ , human beings, not infected hosts. Wasn't that hard?"

He shrugged. "If it was, it got easier when the only living person on the planet I gave a damn about knocked off. It's really easy when you're actually on the battlefield, and the people you're supposed to waste are trying to kill you, too."

"I guess I can see that." She squeezed his hand. "Where is your mother buried?"

"Poland. We were doing a stint there when she got too sick to travel. We moved around a lot, before. I guess that makes sense, too, now that I know about Wesker."

They walked along in silence for some minutes before Sherry spoke again. "Do you ever go back, to visit her grave?"

"No, just the once. Never had a reason to."

"My parents don't have a gravesite. You know, because of my father's involvement in the Raccoon City incident."

"Ah, that sucks. I mean, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It does suck." She looked at him, smiled hopefully. "Maybe I could go with you to see your mother's grave some time. Now that Neo-Umbrella isn't after you any more."

"I don't know…maybe," he amended with a shrug. "That might be nice," he said finally. Sherry beamed. "But if I'm gonna take you somewhere, I'd rather not start with, you know, 'Hey, come meet my dead mom!' Christ, what a first date."

Sherry slowed and looked up at him, startled. "Is this our first date?"

Jake snorted. "No."

"But this is the first time we've gone out, to do something together–"

"Besides kill J'avo? This isn't a date, we're just walking around."

"What about the other night, then? We went to a bar together."

"That wasn't a date, that was a surprise. I just stopped by to say hey; I had no idea you were gonna throw yourself at me."

"I didn't–"

"Hey, hey, take it easy. Anyway, I don't do dates."

She stopped dead in middle of the path. "Wait a second. Weren't _you_ the one who made such a big fuss when I said we should keep this casual? Who was so indignant about having a 'no-strings' arrangement? I thought you made it clear that you _want_ to date me–"

"Date you, yeah, I want to date you in the sense that I want you to sleep with me, and I don't want you to sleep with other guys. I don't want you to do anything with other guys," he muttered. Sherry shot him an exasperated look. "But I don't go on 'dates.' 'Dates' cost money."

Sherry looked at him for a long moment. "Jake Muller, I don't understand you."

"What's to understand? I'm simple."

She rolled her eyes and reached out to take his hand. They continued walking.

"' _Throw_ myself at you,' good grief. You are awful."

"You just couldn't resist, I guess; I always knew you wanted me–"

"Jake!"

"What? You didn't?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up. But _you_ ," she said, eyes suddenly wide with recognition, "do you remember when we were hiding in that bin in the ice cave, in Edonia, when you shot that bug and Ustanak was hunting us?"

"Yeah, I've got a pretty good memory for near-death encounters with giant ugly monsters, oddly."

"The second time, not the first—you _totally_ grabbed my–"

"You came piling in there on top of me! I can't help where my hands were."

"Yeah, right. You so did that on purpose," she accused.

Jake grinned, unrepentant. "Can you blame me if I did? You're hot, and if I was about to die anyway…" He shrugged. Sherry punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, your technique's getting better! As I recall," he went on, grabbing her free hand before she could hit him again, "you told me you would shoot me, if you didn't need me alive." He pulled her off of the path and backed up against a tree. His hand drifted down her back to rest on her bottom, gently cupping one cheek. "Would you shoot me if I did it again, now?" he asked—and squeezed. 

"I'm amazed that _someone_ hasn't shot you yet," she said wryly.

"I like doing things that might kill me," he quipped, and pulled her in close for a kiss.

Just as the kiss began to grow into something more heated, they were interrupted by a loud wolf whistle, making Sherry jump. 

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Jake shouted at a group of teenage boys leering at them from a safe distance. He turned back to Sherry, but she pulled away, blushing.

"Come on," she said, leading him back to the path.

The teenagers backed up a pace when Jake glared at them. "Thanks a lot, you little pricks!"

Sherry sighed. "I can't take you anywhere."

"I told you we should've stayed at the apartment," Jake retorted. He gave her a one-armed squeeze and kissed the top of her head as they resumed walking. Sherry smiled and leaned against him, matching his long stride. It didn't matter what Jake said on the subject; this was easily the best date she'd ever had.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The next days passed in a haze of sensation: Jake's touch, his electric aura all around Sherry. After each period of separation—waking from sleep, returning from work—he remained oddly courteous, even standoffish, until she said or did something to invite his touch. Then, he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He was bossy, sexually demanding, impossible to tire, and Sherry had never been happier in her life. She could barely walk, some mornings, but floated so high on oxytocin that her sore thighs felt indulgent, a private luxury. She spent work hours drafting proposed legislation to prevent private corporate research on the C-virus, and nights and mornings lost to the world in Jake. She didn't worry overly much about lost sleep; she would enjoy it while she could. He wouldn't stay much longer, she knew. He was too restless. He couldn't sit still; he needed to go back to work. In the meantime, he poured that boundless energy and drive into Sherry, fairly worshiping her body with his own. He was a tease, he was a control freak; he was reckless and spontaneous. He would probably irritate her to death in no time if they didn't both realize—without saying it out loud—that they were on a limited schedule, but as it was, the sex…the sex was amazing.

That morning, he had fucked her in the bedroom doorway, hands pinned against the frame. He had been tender with her, moving slowly and gently—but relentlessly—until he coaxed a lingering orgasm from her. She shuddered with memory, and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. The man was diabolical.

"Ms. Birkin?" It was the administrative assistant, ringing in.

"Yes, I'm here."

"The chief wants to see you. A new field assignment, I believe, but you didn't hear it from me." Sherry could hear the smile in the secretary's voice. She'd always liked the woman.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she replied, not feeling nearly as sincere as her forced cheerfulness implied.

Orders from the head office settled it. She was to leave the next morning as part of a delegation to present newly developed anti-bioterrorism protective measures to a foreign government. It was an important task, building on all the work she'd done in the past year, and she was thrilled to be assigned…but it would mark the end of this strange, wonderful handful of days she'd been spending with Jake. She sighed. Better this way, she supposed, than to be left alone in her apartment when he took his next job. At least she'd be out of town, sleeping in a different bed than the one she'd shared with him in the past week, her mind focused on the job ahead of her. Several times throughout the day, she found herself wondering how Jake would take the news. She still hadn't decided how best to bring it up by the time she normally left in the evening, and sat at her desk until later than usual. The office was near-empty when she heard a rap at the doorframe.

"This where you work?" He glanced around appraisingly, leaning on his hands in the doorway. "I've gotta be honest, it looks kinda boring, super girl."

Sherry rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a little smile upon seeing him. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "I came to pay you a visit."

"No, I mean _how_ did you get in here, past security?"

The smile became a smirk as he stepped into the room, spreading his hands innocently. "Just told 'em I was here to see my girl."

She snorted. "Really."

"Scout's honor." He lounged against the desk and held eye contact with her for several seconds before breaking into a rough chuckle. "It's okay, Sherry, really; I didn't break any _rules_ or anything _awful_ like that–"

"Really cute, Muller. It doesn't even _sound_ like me when you do that voice!"

"'It doesn't even _sound_ like me'—hey, ow!" he broke off, jolted back to his usual lower register by a smack on the head with a file folder. "Chill out, Sher, I'm not gonna get you in trouble at work. Though, you sure your new boss isn't a traitor jacked up on some sort of mutant virus? Just asking, since the last one–"

"Shut up, Jake," she interrupted mildly. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"But I just got here! Aren't you going to give me a tour?"

" _No_ , I am not going to show you around; this is a government facility, and you don't have clearance! Come on, let's go home."

"Home, yeah," he said, and stared at her for perhaps an instant too long before looking away. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't hurt my feelings," he announced, not sounding hurt in the slightest, sliding closer to her, "because I want to get you back home, too. Or somewhere else private—can we just lock that door? This desk looks sturdy enough to–"

" _Jake!_ " Sherry hissed, and not a moment too soon, as another knock sounded at the door.

"Agent Birkin? Sherry—oh, I apologize if I'm interrupting." The speaker was a handsome dark-haired man, who looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"It's fine," Sherry said quickly. Jake and the other man looked at each other, and the air in the room suddenly felt colder. "This is Jake Muller," Sherry said, hastening to fill the frosty silence, "and you're…Thomas, right?"

"Tom, right," he smiled. "I didn't think you'd remember." Jake's frown grew even stonier. "I stopped by to introduce myself. I'm going to be on the same flight as you tomorrow morning, as part of the diplomatic team. I just want to say, I'm excited. It's really a privilege to be working with you."

"It is," Jake broke in. His voice was deliberately mild, but his eyes were icy.

"Pardon?" Tom's tone was cooler, too, meeting the thinly veiled threat in Jake's posture with polite disdain.

"It is a privilege to be working with Agent Birkin," Jake said, uncrossing his arms and pushing off of the desk.

"Ah, I take it you two have worked together before?"

"We're close. Sherry's important to me."

"Mr. Muller and I saw combat during the last major global outbreak, in Edonia and China. It was a very trying situation," Sherry cut in before either man could speak again. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for Jake," she went on, eyes softening briefly as they touched on him before turning back to the man in the doorway. "I'm excited about tomorrow's mission, too, Tom. It's good to meet you." She shook the dark-haired man's hand and ushered him out the doorway, mollified, before either man could speak again. Closing the door behind the dark-haired man, she shut her eyes and counted to ten, waiting to hear his footsteps in the hallway, before rounding on Jake.

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way in front of a team member, it's not–"

"You're skipping town with _that_ punk? Shit, Sherry, you haven't said a fucking–"

They had spoken at the same time; Jake's last word echoed in the sudden silence. They took a breath, then both talked at once again:

"I just found out! And you can't–"

"I don't like the way he looks at you."

" _Jake_." Sherry's cheeks were flushed with anger and frustration. "That was inappropriate, you can't treat my coworkers like that, it's not–"

"Coworker? You barely knew that fucker's name before he came in here to drool all over you just now–"

"He didn't _drool_ over me, he stopped by to say hello. He was being polite, something you don't know much about, I know–"

"Polite, are you kidding me? That guy looked at you like a fucking wolf, and you're flying off somewhere with him? You plan to mention that to me at some point, or was it just–"

"I _told_ you just now, I only found out today! I haven't had a chance to talk to you yet, I–" she broke off, and glanced down at the floor. Her eyes were softer when she looked back up at him. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want this week, you and me, to end yet." He was silent, listening. "Even so, you can't just barge in here and act like such a jerk," she continued, her voice rising in anger. "And it's really none of your business what–"

"Yeah, I know what my business is," he cut in, pushing off the desk to stride closer to her. "That's why I'm here in your office, which I've stayed the hell away from 'til now, because of my _business_. I took a job, I've got to leave tomorrow." Sherry's cheeks were still hot with anger, but her heart plummeted down into her stomach at his words. Jake was still talking. "I came to find out what you were still doing at work, because I needed—I wanted to see you, and then I get here and find some ass-faced government spook trying to sweep you off your feet–"

"Jake, that is ridiculous." They stood glaring at each other before Jake finally spoke again.

"Should I go tonight? I can just grab my stuff from your place, and–"

" _No_ ," Sherry said vehemently, holding up a hand, "no, I don't... I'm still mad at you, but I don't want you to leave like this. I don't want you to leave yet."

"What do you want, Sherry?"

She shook her head in confused frustration. "I don't know Jake, I… I don't know. But if this thing between us is going to be any more than this, any more than this week, you can't just run away now. Do you…" she swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Do you want to leave now? Is this it?"

Jake held her eyes for a long moment, then sighed. "Let's go back to your apartment," he said gruffly. "I got some stuff—food."

Sherry held his gaze in turn before nodding. "Fine. Let's go."

 

********

 

The walk home was tense. Sherry could feel Jake hovering like a thundercloud, waiting for her to gather her purse and coat to leave the office building. He held doors open for her on the way out, not because he seemed to feel particularly chivalrous, but more to have something to do with himself while he waited for her to catch up. They hopscotched along the sidewalk on the walk home, Sherry refusing to stretch herself to match Jake's angry pacing, Jake stopping at street corners, shifting his weight from foot to foot and scuffing his boots on the pavement until she came within a few paces. Other than Sherry's reflexive "thank you's" upon walking through a door Jake held, neither spoke a word the entire time. Both avoided eye contact.

When they reached the apartment, Sherry threw her things down and stomped into the kitchen. Jake followed her and started taking ingredients out of the fridge, taking the lead since Sherry wasn't sure what he'd been intending to make for dinner and was unwilling to ask. The air between them crackled with passive aggressive tension. As she turned to set plates on the counter, deliberately ignoring Jake's set jaw and rigid shoulders, a bright spot of yellow caught Sherry's eye. On her small, unused kitchen table, a single daffodil sat in a vase. It hadn't been there when she'd left for work that morning. She turned to look at the tall, powerful man banging angrily around her small kitchen, and her throat constricted tightly.

"Jake?" she said in a small voice. "Did you bring me that flower?"

He stopped in mid-motion, tense energy vibrating off of him. He put down the pan he was holding and turned to face her.

"Put your hands on the counter."

Sherry stared. "What?"

"Hands on the counter, palms down. Bend over."

"I don't understa–"

"Just—humor me."

Slowly, Sherry turned and placed her hands on the cool surface. She hesitated, looked back at him.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. Biting her lip, she nodded. "Bend over. Spread your legs."

Sherry swallowed and did as he said. Supporting her weight on her hands, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and wondered just what the hell he intended to do next. Jake moved up to stand beside her. She was hyperaware of the roiling potential for action, for violence, radiating from him, and for one brief, mad instant wondered if he was going to _spank_ her—but then she felt a gentle touch on her hip. Jake's hand traveled slowly down her leg until he came to the hem of her skirt. He paused, then raised it a few inches, his fingers electric against the bare skin of her inner thigh. Her heart pounded at the tension between them, at her undignified position, at the feel of his touch and the uncertainty of what he would do next. She was already wet by the time he slid his hand between her thighs. He stroked the swollen lips of her vulva through her panties, once, twice, three times. She blushed, realizing, as he continued to stroke, that she had soaked through her panties against his fingers. She started when he put his other hand on her waist, running it up over her rib cage to cup her breast. She shivered slightly at the feeling of him lifting the weight of her breast in his big hand, her nipple hardening against his palm through her bra. When she was near-squirming, he took his hand away from her breast for a moment. Pushing her skirt up high, he pulled her panties down, exposing her bottom and wet pussy to the cool air. She gasped when he ran a hand over her bottom, squeezing one of her cheeks before returning to her vulva, and gasped again as, after one last lingering stroke along her lips, he slipped a finger inside. In moments, he had her legs trembling as she fought not to moan.

"When you get on that plane tomorrow," he said suddenly, voice low, fingers never pausing in their movements, "I want you to remember what I can do. I want you to remember what you feel like right now." Sherry did moan then, a little gasp of sound. "If you even think about looking at another guy, I want you to remember that you gave me a key to your apartment. I can walk in here any time you're home, and I can make you so wet you'll make a puddle on the floor. I can bend you over this counter and make you come so hard you can't walk. Nobody else can do this to you, no other guy can make you feel like I can. You're mine. You're _mine_." Fucking her deeper with his fingers, he pinched her nipple one last time and slid his other hand between her legs from the front, rubbing her clit oh-so-gently, his touch tantalizingly soft.

"Jake," she gasped involuntarily, her legs starting to shake, and then—stroking her clit from the front, fingers still inside her from behind—he ran his free thumb firmly over her asshole. Sherry exploded. Convulsing in long shudders of ecstasy, she was dimly aware that her arms were barely supporting her; her knees had turned to water. Jake's fingers were her only solid point of connection to the world around her, sending lightning shocks of pleasure shooting up her spine and rippling into waves of orgasm. She clenched hard around his hand and shouted his name, swept away in the overwhelming sensation and entirely unaware of how loudly she was screaming, barely aware that she was yelling at all. Finally, he went still, fingers still inside her, and Sherry came slowly back to her senses, gasping for breath and shivering with little aftershocks of pleasure.

When her breathing began to slow, he spoke again, quietly. "Whenever some other fuck smiles at you, you remember I can do this. I can walk in here and do this to you any time I want. I can walk in here and do this any time _you_ want me to. You remember." Silence fell over the room, save for the sound of Sherry's beating heart, and then she screamed again as he slid his fingers slowly out of her and moved away.

Sherry found her legs and turned back to Jake. She reached up and put her hand to his scarred face, running her thumb along his cheekbone. Her eyes burned, hot tears of overwhelming physical sensation, residual anger, and something larger and more dangerous, something she wouldn't yet name as love, threatening to well up and spill down her cheeks. "And what about you?" she said, finding her voice. "When you're out doing God knows what, wherever you're going, will you remember me? You say I'm yours, but…are you mine?"

The hard lines of Jake's face softened, and he looked suddenly vulnerable, even afraid. She'd never seen an expression like it on his face. He seized her hand and held it against his cheek, then wrapped her in his arms and clutched her tightly to his chest.

"Don't you see?" he whispered into her hair. "Don't you see what you do to me?"

They stood holding each other in Sherry's kitchen for an indeterminable amount of time—minutes, hours, a lifetime. At length, Sherry pushed away, wobbly on her shoes. Jake reluctantly let her go and looked away, embarrassed, as she drew back to look up at him. Sherry kicked off her heels, standing shorter on bare feet, and laughed. Brushing past Jake, who still looked uncomfortable, she went to the refrigerator and opened the freezer, grabbed the remaining vodka, then went to the cabinet. She took out two coffee mugs, poured a generous measure of vodka into each, then handed one to Jake.

"Yours," she said decisively, holding her mug out for a toast.

A slow smile spread across Jake's face. "You sure you wanna get drunk before you leave on some government work thing?"

"I don't get hangovers, as we've discovered, and you're stalling, Muller. Answer the question."

His blue eyes grew solemn, and he gazed at her seriously. "You're the only one in the world, super girl. There is nobody else."

"You remember that," she said after a pause, and they clinked their mugs together. Jake swallowed his vodka in one go. Sherry stopped and made a horrible face halfway through, but forced the harsh liquor down and gulped the rest of the drink. She slammed her empty mug down. "Take your pants off," she ordered, putting her hands on Jake's chest and shoving him back against the counter. Then she dropped to her knees and put her lips to his cock.

Jake leaned back and surrendered to her control, exhaling slowly as Sherry swallowed him down, reveling in the feel of the vodka burning down his throat and Sherry's tongue against the underside of his glans. There was nothing else in the world, no other thought in his mind—just this woman, this woman and the way she made him feel. He had never felt anything so good in his life. He would do anything for her in that moment, anything she asked. But then, just as he was rising toward orgasm, she pulled back her lips and bit him, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to shoot fire up his spine and wring a surprised gasp from his throat. With a slurp, she pulled back and smiled up at him with those big blue eyes. The little minx. Turning, she crawled out of the kitchen area on all fours, pausing to toss him an invitational glance over her shoulder. Her skirt had fallen back down to cover most of her ass, but her panties were still tangled around her thighs, limiting her movements. Jake paused long enough to fish out the condom he'd stashed in his pocket and roll it on before following her. He caught her before she reached the bedroom and fell to his own knees, stopping her with his hands on her hips. With a low growl of arousal, he pushed her skirt up around her waist and, gripping himself with one hand, stroked the head of his dick slowly against her still-wet pussy.

"Please Jake, please fuck me," she begged, her voice gone all breathy.

"That's the plan," he replied, rubbing himself against her lips again, but he was too horny to make her wait much longer. With a soft sigh of satisfaction, he slid into her, feeling her welcome every inch of his length. She felt like home. Then he smiled evilly. Bite him, would she? He'd give her what she was asking for. Sherry gasped at the end of each thrust as he fucked her hard, deep, merciless, her ass bouncing against him and his balls smacking against her clit.

"Jake, _Jake_ –" She whimpered his name as she began to quiver around his cock, making him grin fiercely. Experimentally, he took one hand off of her hip and brushed his thumb against her little pink asshole, not penetrating, just pressing against it, wondering if she'd react as strongly as she had before. Instantly, she came so hard he had to fight to stay inside of her, gripping her hip hard with his other hand as the violent contractions of her orgasm pulled him over the edge into ecstasy with her.

When he finally pulled out, Sherry collapsed to the floor. Jake staggered to the bathroom on unsteady legs, disposed of the condom, and came back to fall to the ground beside her. They lay side by side, breathing hard, for some time before either of them spoke.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Where'd you get that condom from?"

"Had it on me."

"Really?" Sherry propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him. "Why?"

He smirked up at her, shrugged one shoulder. "In case we got a chance to, you know, get some action at your office."

"Jake!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, you're the one who said it never hurts to be prepared," he retorted.

"…fair enough," Sherry conceded, then fell back to the ground with a laugh.

Jake sat up and looked at the red carpet burns on her knees, which were healing visibly before their eyes. "God, that is so fucking hot." He leaned down and spread her legs wider, then lowered his mouth to bite her inner thigh, making her squeal, which made him grin and bite her again, higher up her leg.

"Jake," she protested weakly as he worked his way up between her thighs, "shouldn't we start packing? We should get some sleep before we have to leave tomorro–"

"You can sleep on the plane," he growled.

"What about you? You can't–"

"Sherry." He paused and looked up at her, exasperated. "Take off your clothes."

She almost protested again—they still hadn't even managed to eat dinner yet—but then his tongue made contact with her oversensitized clit.

Jake was right, this was much more important. She laughed suddenly, a bright, joyous sound, and did as he said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2015!! Thank you to everyone who's been following this for all the kudos and encouragement, and for your patience. I hope you enjoy the ending!

Later, spent, they slept where they fell on the floor (or Sherry did, anyway). Jake couldn’t sleep, and he figured he’d rather look at her than the inside of his eyelids. He spent what felt like most of the night watching Sherry breathe, like some kind of freakin’ headcase. She was so beautiful, and still looked so…pure, and innocent, regardless of the filthy things she’d whispered in his ear while he fucked her into exhausted incoherence. He couldn’t help but smile at her serious expression as she shifted, dreaming. Sherry could probably sleep anywhere, post-sex, anyway. He wondered if she’d slept so soundly throughout their six months of captivity in China. He wondered if she’d sleep so soundly tomorrow night, when they were on different continents, separated by thousands of miles. His chest tightened painfully at the thought. This was why he’d waited so long to seek her out, wasn’t it. He was restless to be _doing_ something, to be back on the job, but having seen her face again, it was going to be harder to say goodbye a second time. And having seen the rest of her, too—and touched, and tasted, marked her flawless skin with sex-bruises no one else would ever see—Christ, this was fucking ridiculous.

Suddenly angry, he rolled over and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not letting you go,” he growled threateningly. Sherry smiled and wriggled a little in her sleep at the sound of his voice. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. Damn.

 

********

 

When Sherry woke to the light of morning, she was stiff and disoriented. Where was…why was she…

She shot bolt upright as she came to awareness. What time was it?! She hadn’t even begun to pack, and if she was late…

“Relax,” Jake drawled from somewhere above her. She looked up to see him standing fully dressed, holding out a steaming cup of coffee. “You’ve got time.”

“Thanks.” She took the proffered mug and took a sip, but scrambled to her feet immediately. There was still a lot to do before she left, and there was no way she could show up for a work trip in this state.

Jake watched as she raced around the apartment, frantically throwing clothes into a bag between showering, drying her hair, putting on makeup, and dressing. He stayed out of her way, leaning against the back of the couch and playing with his lighter in silence while she dashed back and forth. He shifted uncomfortably as she hopped between the bathroom and bedroom in a pair of lacy panties, trying to pull her pants on as she went. Something about the combination of her straight-A student, save-the-world idealism and her complete lack of self-consciousness about her body…it did things to him. He wanted to throw her on the bed and rip those panties off with his teeth, but he doubted she’d appreciate it right at this instant. Looking around for something to distract himself, he noticed the near-empty vodka bottle still sitting on the kitchen counter. What the hell. Waste not, want not, right? He took a swig straight from the bottle and told himself the hot, tight feeling in his chest was caused by the liquor, not the little blonde woman whose courage and pure stubborn-ass _caring_ had blown up his heart.

As for Sherry’s part, she was on auto-pilot, focusing only on the tasks at hand, tuning out the electric presence of the man in her kitchen. In what seemed like no time, somehow, she was packed. She looked at the clock in her bedroom. Twenty minutes left to, to say…whatever it was she was going to say to Jake. Her heart beat faster. She forced herself back out of the bedroom before she could overthink it, rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms on her thighs.

Jake was back to leaning against the couch, but had put the lighter away, waiting with arms crossed. She felt impossibly awkward, the way she had when she first met him. She blinked up at his smirk for an impossibly long instant before he broke the silence.

“So, this is sayonara, huh?”

“I suppose so,” she replied. He could probably hear her heartbeat in the still room. She certainly could. “Do you know how long this this next job will take?”

He shrugged. “’Til it’s done, or the money runs out.”

“I see.” She took a breath. Silence stretched between them. Sherry couldn’t think of how to tell him what she felt for him, what this meant to her, how much she would miss him. She couldn’t tell him that she loved him, that he was the first person she’d loved since Claire and Leon—her adopted family—came into her life, and definitely the first person she’d ever loved in this way. She couldn’t tell him that his stupid cocky smirk made her whole world shine brighter, or that her heart sang when she heard him whistling like an obnoxious idiot. She couldn’t tell him that his hard, scarred face was dearer to her than any other in the world, or that his insistent, demanding touch was addictive. She couldn’t tell him to be careful, that it would hurt more than anything she could possibly imagine to lose him. It was too hard to say the words. So she looked up into his pale blue eyes and said the first thing that came into her head instead. “Keep in touch, okay?”

In response, Jake just smiled. Then he pushed off the couch and stalked toward her, one step, two, then suddenly he was pressed against her, the wall at her back, his mouth on hers. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, losing herself to the touch and taste of him. The electric energy that burned off his skin ran over her like heat, racing down her spine. She shivered and dug her nails into his shoulders, returning his kiss with interest. He stooped and hoisted her higher against the wall, pinning her in place with his pelvis while his hands moved possessively over her ribcage. Sherry moaned softly against his mouth, eliciting an answering rumble in response. She squeezed with her legs and he ground against her, making her moan again, louder. There was nothing else but Jake, his lips, his hands, his taste—did he smell of vodka again, or was she just imagining it?—and the huge, overwhelming desire he aroused in her. He kissed her until she was weak-kneed and then, just as she stopped caring what time it was or where she needed to be, she just needed him, _now_ —he lowered her gently to her feet and pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said casually.

He turned on his heel and strode to the door, paused just long enough to shoot one final smile over his shoulder. Then the door slammed, she heard his footsteps and the sound of whistling on the stairs. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and he was gone.

Sherry slumped back against the wall to catch her breath, and glanced around the apartment. Jake’s bag wasn’t anywhere in sight. She wondered what the hell he’d done with it. It occurred to her that this was the first time Jake had ever given her a goodbye kiss. She started to giggle, and couldn’t stop. “ _I’ll text you_.” Just an average couple off to a day of work. _Bye honey! See you later, babe. Have a great day!_ Tears of laughter leaked out the corners of her eyes as she imagined Jake barging back into the apartment months later, like this parting was no big deal. _Hey honey, I’m home!_ Nothing about this relationship was normal, nothing at all.

 

********

 

Outside, Jake leaned casually against the side of a building, waiting to see Sherry off. After a few minutes she emerged from her apartment building, her carry-on in tow, smeared lipgloss replaced and rumpled clothes and hair smoothed. She descended the stairs with that perky, purposeful stride that made his heart swell and marched off down the block in the opposite direction to catch a cab. An errant ray of light caught her blonde hair, making it gleam. Jake smiled and shook his head, reaching into his pocket to take out his phone. Damn, what had he let himself in for? This shit  _had_ to be fucking unhealthy…but he liked it.

Settled into the overheated taxi, Sherry fastened her seatbelt for the ride. Deep in her pocket, her phone buzzed. She had a text.

“ _Ciao bella. Hate to see you leave, but you look damn good walking away_.”

Sherry grinned and sat back to look out the window. Jake Muller would never behave like a normal person, and this thing between them…it would never be a normal relationship.

But it was perfect.


	8. Epilogue

“I’ll text you,” he’d said, and he had…thirty seconds after she’d left her apartment. Following his last clichéd compliment to her, um, assets, Sherry didn’t hear from Jake again for weeks.

“Are you alive?” she texted from the cab on the return to her apartment, her second—much less eventful—field assignment successfully completed. No response, once again…until late that night, when she received a series of texts detailing several filthy things Jake wanted to do to her the next time they met, which left her unable to sleep, thinking of him.

Weeks passed and Sherry’s life continued much as usual, punctuated by sporadic communications from Jake: mostly explicit sexts that made her blush, a few Italian phrases that Google Translate indicated were highly flattering, and once, a photo of a blue-eyed cat wearing a blonde wig. She turned down a dinner invitation from her coworker Tom and continued to eat most of her meals standing up in her kitchen. She kept drinking the coffee Jake had purchased, finally acclimating to strong taste and coming to prefer it over her previous favorite “flavored shit.”

And then, nearly three months since she’d been sent on her second field assignment, Sherry received orders from the head office. She was to travel to Brazil to investigate the site of a suspected B.O.W. research laboratory. It was thought to be abandoned, but several locals had reported strange sightings that might indicate signs of J’avo activity. For security, she would be accompanied by a liaison who had been embedded in the region for some time. Her briefing didn’t include a name, but that was hardly unusual, given security parameters for cases like these. Reading through her orders, Sherry felt excited and maybe just a tiny bit wistful, remembering the way she’d felt when she received her first set of field orders. She’d spent the trans-Atlantic flight to Edonia poring over a file of all available information on Jake. She’d been so nervous to meet him, and determined not to show it. She shook her head at her own nostalgia, smiling. What a life.

After touching down in Brazil and passing through customs, she strode out of the airport into the bright sunshine with a confidence she no longer had to pretend. She was prepared to do this job; she could handle anything it threw at her. She would find a place to spend the night, enjoy the beauty of South American evening, and rest before meeting with her informant tomorrow.

As she passed the building’s corner, she heard someone approach from behind, whistling. She was startled for an instant, but then, becoming aware of the vibrant, boundless storm of energy rolling off of her pursuer, broke into a broad grin. Without looking around, she suddenly knew who her anonymous liaison was.

“Miss me?” he quipped, falling into step beside her.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Thought so.” She could hear the smirk in his voice.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Muller? What are you doing in this part of the world?”

“Got an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Which is…?”

“Chance to take down some J’avo with my super girl.”

Sherry smiled, and stopped to look up at him. “Am I to assume that you are the unnamed liaison I’ve been assigned to meet with tomorrow?”

“You’d be assuming correctly.” His grin was infectious. She arched an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“So why am I meeting you now?”

“I thought I could escort you to your hotel room, provide you with some essential briefing prior to the scheduled meeting.”

Sherry’s eyebrow rose even higher. “I’m sure it never occurred to you that this sort of, um, unofficial…liaising…might be just a bit unprofessional?”

“Nah, gotta make sure you’re thoroughly prepared.” He took a step closer. His hands were in his pockets, but she could feel the aura of energy that always surrounded him tingling through her clothes. “Besides,” he continued, looking pointedly up and down the street, “I don’t see any giant monsters chasing us. Nobody’s dying right now,” he looked back down at her, voice gone low, “…except me.”

Sherry laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Fine,” she said. “I _have_ missed you. But you had better behave yourself when we’re on the clock.”

“When have I ever been less than professional?” Jake retorted, reaching for her hand. “Come on.”

And so Sherry found herself strolling down a sunny Brazilian street arguing cheerfully with the stubborn, scarred, too-smart and too-smart- _mouthed_ mercenary who happened to be her former assignment, her apparent coworker and, strangest of all, her boyfriend.

It was weird.

It was unexpected.

It was the farthest thing from normal, and it was her life now.

It was wonderful.


End file.
